I begin to open my eyes in a daze as the loud alarm rings in my ear. I blindly reach for my phone to stop the horrible screeching. I then sit up, stretching my back and neck. Pops and cracks erupt from my spine as I exhale deeply. I sit there for a moment, allowing myself more time to fully wake up, and look around the grey room. The windows are open and I can see soft pink light from the early morning coming in. My two best friends are asleep on either side of me. I nudge them in an attempt to wake them up. Lexi sleepily asks me what time it is and I respond 7:30. We get up to get ready to leave for the coffee shop. My friends and I make our way into the bathroom to brush our teeth. I look at myself in the mirror. My blonde hair is tied up into a messy bun. It is obvious that I slept with it like that but I have no interest in changing it. The purple rings under my eyes are a dead giveaway of the lack of sleep I had gotten the previous night, thanks to midnight snacking and talking with my friends. My cracked lips are in desperate need of chapstick but I will deal with that when I go downstairs. I wasn’t doing myself any favors by not putting on makeup, but it was summer and I had mastered the art of not caring. My pale blue t shirt is large on me and completely covers my black athletic shorts. I glance at my friends and am happy to see we all look like messes. Single file we head down the stairs and into Quincy’s kitchen. She grabs her keys as Lexi and I find our wallets. We venture into the warm summer air and get into the car to leave.

Stepping into the car feels like being trapped in a hot oven. Broken air conditioning and 90 degree weather is not a good combination. Almost immediately, I roll down the passenger side window and allow my arm to hang out of it. Quincy plugs her phone into the radio system and begins playing music. We drive down the road with windows down, loudly singing along to the songs. I turn my head around to see Lexi sitting in the middle of the backseat. Her typically soft hair is wild and tangled due to the wind. I laugh and turn back around to face forward. Chandler Cafe is much closer to Quincy’s house than it is to mine so the ride there is faster than I anticipated. As soon as we arrive I excitedly open the car door, eager to get inside.

The aroma hits my nose almost immediately. I take a deep breath, practically tasting the sweet coffee in my mouth. I walk up to the counter with my usual order in mind. I tell the barista my drink and hand her my money. Before she is finished putting my money in the register, I notice a small punch card that is the size of a credit card or license. The top of it reads Chandler Cafe in nice font and below that are ten coffee cups waiting to be punched out. I pick it up because I know it is something I’ll use. The card is thin and looks like sandy brown construction paper. Each coffee cup is rotated in a slightly different way from the ones adjacent to it. I ask if it’s too late to get it punched and the lady smiles, says no, and takes my card to give it it’s first hole. The place where the hole is at is slightly off of where it should be on the coffee cup but it gets the job done. I put the card into my wallet and move to the end of the counter where my coffee will be when it is finished being made.

After we all receive our drinks we walk to sit in the outside seating area. We make our way to an empty table with four chairs and take our seats, leaving one place empty. Sitting there peacefully I look around to observe my surroundings. To my right is the cafe with the words Eat Sip Chat painted in white on the tinted windows. Above it is a black overhang that reads Chandler Cafe. In front of me are the rest of the chairs and tables to the outside area. Just a little past that is a dusty yellow wall engulfed with vines. Looking over to the left of the wall, I see the streets of downtown Sylvania. Every so often on the sidewalk is a lampost. Above the street hangs a string of small lights, attached at the top of the many shops that line the area. The sound of talking people fades to the background along with the all of the other little noises.

We sip our coffee and talk about anything that comes to mind. In this moment I feel nothing but pure happiness and realize it’s the little things in life that mean the most. I carry my punch card with me everyday in my wallet. Partially because I might want coffee and would like to eventually get something free. Another part of me carries it around because some of my best days were spent at that cafe and the card reminds me of those times every time I see it.