We stopped at a konbini (which is the Japanese word for convenience store, which, unlike any States side, actually are full of convenience) to get some coffee as we hit the road. Shirking away from the coffees in cans which are also readily available, I bought us each a cup from new brand of coffee which my mother had tried yesterday - it's called Mt. Rainier. It comes pre-packaged in what looks like any to-go cup from an espresso bar and this place was selling several varieties. You could differentiate because the colors on the cups varied but as far as what the actual differences were, anyone's guess was as good as mine since they all basically said 'espresso latte.' My mom had gotten the one that said 'Premium' (and whose only other difference, aside from the word 'premium' in front of the words 'espresso latte,' was that it was ¥50 more expensive than the regular kind); she'd said it was really good yesterday, so I got it again. It was pretty damn good.
As she drank it in the car, she commented, "They must put something in this coffee."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Like, drugs or something," she replied.
"Why?" I laughed.
"Because, every time I taste it, I think 'Oh, this is so good!' Every time it touches my tongue I think it. It's not normal!"
"Are you sure it's the coffee's fault? Perhaps it is you who are not normal."
I don't think there's anyone else in my life who would immediately attribute the deliciousness of something to it being spiked with drugs. I tried to convey this to her but maybe I should have just said "Yeah..."
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