I love coffee and that is why I am coming out. I have no shame anymore. On the way to work, and sometimes even on the way from work, I drive in to a petrol station and grab a cup.
A few years ago, on Lonsdale and Swanston streets – in the middle of the CBD – with a friend, we wanted coffee, it was only 10pm. It was impossible. Fotis Kapetopoulos likes the simple pleasures, which for him includes a servo coffee.
Credit: Jason South We could drink as much booze as we wanted, or get a bowl of noodles, or a souvlaki – but no coffee. Even the ever-present and historic International Cakes had shut down its coffee machines. So, we ended up at a convenience store.
We put a small, waxed paper cup under the automatic espresso machine, pressed the desired buttons and bang, coffee, real coffee at throwaway change. We looked at each other and one of us (not sure whom) said, “Hey, it’s ok!” “It’s okay” became a regular joke. Now, every time I grab one of these I say “It’s ok, it’s ok” as a reassuring mantra.
As I get older, I become more aware of the importance of small joys and rituals. My small joy is lining up at the coffee machine at my regular gas station in Preston along with tradies, Sudanese men and women, and realtors for my small $2 coffee. A shot of espresso, then I fill 3/4 of a cup with full cream milk.
I’ve often thought about using another cup, so people won’t recognise that I’m drinking this coffee, but now I celebrate it. Why am I coming out.