text: “Why do they make this so goddamn hot? They must want to burn your tongue so you can’t taste how much they water it down. I can barely taste anything anymore. Maybe I should sue them; get my big pay out and open my own shop that sells coffee at the proper dilution and temperature. Ground breaking ideacoffee that doesn’t leave my customers writhing under the pain of a blistering tongue everyday of their miserable lives. I guess I should just stop coming here. But, then I’d have to find a new place to go and find new things to complain about there. Seems like a lot of hassle over a tongue with a few burned off taste buds....” Kurt stared at his laptop screen, glowing blue in the ambient mood lighting of *Brew-Ha-Ha,* the non-alcoholic version of the local dive in Oshkosh, Wisconsin, tucked away down a little side street off the main drag. Few ever went looking for it unless they already knew where it was. He had just arrived, and already there was a bitter taste in his mouth. He had run through nearly the same monologue in his mind day in and day out, for the better part of the year since he had started going there. Today was the day, though. Today, he was going to make real progress on this story; this pulitzer-potential Great American Novel that he merely needed to coax from the ends of his neurons. He looked at the thousand or so words he’d managed to choke up: something about a guy in a coffee shop in front of a laptop trying to look like he was doing something important in order to avoid social discourse. “Fuck.” He mouthed the word as he thought it to himself. He set his coffee down to the side and popped the cheap plastic lid off so it could cool down. He watched for a moment as the steam rose gleefully from the surface. Glee had no business here. Moving his hand in a well practiced multi-touch technique, he was able to have his Facebook screen up in less than a second. The blue-motif world of Facebook was calming for him. Every second spent wasted checking up on the friends he once had was a second spent away from making any real progress. Progress was hard. It took concentration; motivation. It was far easier to scroll this infinite tome the internet had written for him. And it was an illustrated novel. There were pictures of his elementary school friends looking chiseled as they hung out by some undisclosed body of water with beers in hand and faceless tan girls in little pink bathing suits that always seemed one size to small. “Those stupid parties are never any fun anyway. I always end up drinking too much on my own and doing something stupid. Remember that time I thought it was funny to dump the contents of the punch bowl down the front of my pants like I was drinking it from my crotch? And then I thought it was also funny to moon the cops when they came because apparently I didn’t leave when I was asked. Actually that is still pretty funny. Anyway, look at those stupid assholes. They’re never going to amount to anything beyond their quaint little small town parties. I’m better off not being there. Even if they invited me, I still wouldn’t go.” He scrolled down some more to a picture of his high school best friend, Max, and his golden retriever. It was a sunny, and they were alone together in some field with tall grass. “Pfft. How silly. Why is he posting a picture of him and his dog as a profile picture? That’s a bit sad. Doesn’t he have any real friends to post pictures with? That stupid dog is probably all he has in the world. How pathetic.” In the midst of his spewing of thoughts, Kurt remembered his own golden retriever that he had when he was growing up. He remembered the day they had to take him to the vet and how he stayed with him as they poked him that long needle. He remembered watching his eyes close for the last time. And he remember crying in a heap on the floor harder than he ever had in his life. His expression was dazed, backlit by the monitor like a ghost wandering in the moonlight. He absentmindedly clicked ‘like.’ *Cute puppy! Reminds me of my own when I was growing up.* He mouthed the words as he typed them in to the comments section. He read them over twice before holding down the backspace deleting his words from existence. He continued the scroll stopping at a picture posted by his long ex-girlfriend, Kate. She was with her new boyfriend. The caption indicated they were engaged. “Kate’s too young to get married. She shouldn’t give her life to some guy like that. Who knows what she’ll be missing out on. Look at that guy. Looks like a Friday night bar pick-up. I can smell the ink on the divorce papers drying from here. I guess I should be nicer. I’m sure they’re going to end up okay. I wonder if they’ll have kids. Shit, he’s a good looking guy. I bet they’re kids will be good looking and popular in school. I miss you, Kate. I wish I could tell you. ‘Kurt and Kate.’ Our names even sounded good together.... What am I doing? How is that any type of indication of two peoples’ compatibility? It means nothing. I’m actually stupid. I moved on from this many, many years agoand yet here I am. I’ve never had another girl like her, though. She was so amazing. And now she’s boning this other fuck-stick, while here I am in this stupid coffee shop with this retarded name, burnt out from whacking off every other day. I can’t let her know this. Should I say ‘congratulations’? No, I’ll just like it. Would that be weird? Fuck, just get off Facebook, you asshole.” Kurt closed the window with a rapid fire keyboard shortcut and saw his measly thousand words staring back at him once more. He picked up his coffee and took a swig. “Goddammit! How is this still hot?” He spoke his mind out loud this time and the quiet little people on their own little laptops looked over his way with a combination of confusion and dismay. ‘Out loud’ is forbidden here. Kurt closed his laptop a bit more forcibly than he was accustomed, but it still made a soft little pat sound. He looked down at his closed computer in front of him, and then up at all the other people quietly drinking their coffee and going about their work. There was an Asian girl in the corner with chin length hair and square goggle-glasses. She stared intently at her computer while sipping on some drink through a straw. “I bet it’s a non-fat chai something something something. Asians are crazy about the chai. Great, now I’m a racist. Good going, Kurt. As if you didn’t have enough wrong with you. I wonder if she’s writing a book, too. Probably not. She’s probably studying for math or engineering or something... Goddammit, you racist fuck! I’m the worst. I should just go talk to her and ask her about herself. That’s not weird, right? Why is not talking to each other the new norm? Oh, shit...” The girl in the corner made eye contact with Kurt, realizing she was being stared at. Kurt quickly looked away and pretended he was minding his own business and the girl quickly returned to her own endeavors. Kurt turned his attention now to a man sitting a few places down at a table parallel to his own spot. He was drinking a coffee and reading a book. “Greatanother guy in the world who’s better looking than me. Chalk another one up. Why isn’t his coffee dissolving the taste buds on his stupid tongue? He must be blessed by the caffeine gods. Who wears a blazer to a coffee shop like this, anyway? Who’s he trying to impress? What a phony. What’s he reading?” Kurt leaned forward and squinted to decrypt the title of the book. “Oh hang on everyone! You’d better fasten your seat belts. This guys’s reading *The Catcher in the Rye.* How original. We got a regular literary fucking genius over here. Everyone else put your shit books away, can’t you see we’re reading *The Catcher in the Mother-Fucking Rye.* I didn’t know you were even allowed to read that once you graduated high school. He’s probably in here trying to pick up freshmen girls or something. The little airheads who walk around with their heads up their asses because their shit don’t stink because they read the *Themes Motifs & Symbols* tab on SparkNotes for stupid, wipe-my-ass *Catcher in the Rye.* You know, whatever. Good for him. I bet he gets laid tonight while I’m naked and jackin’ it in San Diego.” Kurt chuckled to himself. “I wonder if he watches South Park. Dammit...” The man looked up from his book to see Kurt looking back. He was able to squeeze in a quick, but sincere smile before Kurt whipped his gaze away. “Oh, what a guy. Reads J. D. Salinger and offers sincere smiles to strangers. I should contact the pope and see about pushing his canonization papers through.” He looked down at his laptop again, remembering he had just closed it. Not enough time had passed from him to throw it back open againthere’s rules here. Impaired of other options, he plunged his hand in to his right front pocket and whipped out his iPhone. Nothing. No texts. No SnapChats. No Facebook updates. Kurt flipped back and forth from page to page of useless apps. One, for instance, was called Coffee Finder. With one click you can find coffee shops that are near to your current location and read their menus and reviews from other customers. “Solid download.” Kurt clicked on Coffee Finder. A map popped up with a blue dot emitting little waves to indicate his current locale. It hovered over a red dot that read *Brew Ha-Ha.* He clicked on it. An image of the facade of the building popped up. He clicked on the about tab. The location apparently used to be a furniture store in the 1950s, a grocery store through the 90s, abandoned for 10 years, and then repurposed as ‘Oshkosh’s favorite gourmet coffee establishment.’ “Gourmet, my ass. Although, I am drinking shitty coffee on historical land. Or at least I would if it would ever not be scalding.” He looked over menacingly toward his still steaming cup of French Roast. “I hate you.” He looked back at his phone and clicked on the review tab. The average: two and a half stars. “Seems about right.” He clicked on the read more button. The first review was five star. Holly J. writes: *Brew Ha-Ha is a great little whole-in-the-wall coffee shop. It offers a cozy atmosphere and really friendly service. If only the hoards of Starbucks drinkers would turn around the corner their eyes would be....*(continue reading) The review was cut off and you had to click if you wanted to read the rest of it. Kurt did not oblige. The next review down was one star. Blueballs69 writes: *This place sucks. The person behind the counter was picking his wedgy as he asked me what I wanted. When I got my coffee, it tasted like ash and burned off half my taste buds. Go to Starbucks. Brew Ha-Ha sucks....*(continue reading) “This guy gets it! Let’s see what he has to say. Click-a-roo.” Kurt clicked the button. *...balls.* “Worth it I think.” Kurt smirked slyly to himself as he rested his arm on the table staring methodically into his phone. (continued in comments....