I would not rate it as the best ever coffee I have had, but it came close.
Somebody within that shop knew how to make really good, hot coffee. If only I knew who it was, I could perhaps think of poaching him to start my own coffee shop.
Stopping my vagrant mind from gallivanting on such random thoughts, I fixed my eyes and thoughts on the coffee cup – a rather large cup which even more largely proclaimed it was 100% paper.
Hmmm, I thought, this was interesting. A 100% paper cup, but it held my hot coffee for quite a while without any of the liquid seeping through, and I did not even feel the heat. I checked once more – it was not a very thick paper, and it was not even a cup with double-walled paper.
Surely, my mind was wondering, there is something amiss.
The simplest way to figure out if a cup was made of 100% paper was – well, you guessed it, just try to tear it. If it were 100% paper, you could tear it clean, you know what I mean. If there was plastic laminated, ah, you will feel it and find it.
I tore the cup…well, I’m not sure if you have tried tearing paper cups – or supposed paper cups – but one way I have used to tear it was to do it at the rim. You press two adjacent fingers on the rim, and try tearing it across the circumference while the other hand supports this action.
I tried it this time, and it tore…but well, there it was, a very thin line of plastic whose uneven edges could be seen distinctly flapping out of the paper edges.
It was as I thought. This silly scam was going on all around the world, in many coffee shops, and no one was any the wiser. A very thin piece layer of plastic, and they call it 100% paper because the amount of plastic used is little. But that little is good enough to do big damage, as it is quite challenging to recycle the laminated material, however small the thickness of plastic be.
For the second time within a minute, I had to rein in my vagrant mind.
It was time for me to go. My flight would be departing in just over an hour.
After paying for the coffee, and before I darted out, I looked at the chap at the cash counter for a moment – he certainly had the look and feel of being the owner of the shop.
“Er, you know, just thought I’d check this little thing with you,” I hesitated.
The chap was so full of smiles and positivity that I was motivated to continue.
“You know, the cup you gave me, it isn’t really 100% plastic.”
A bit of positivity and a lot of smile was gone, but he still looked like a nice bloke.
“Oh well, sir, you’re observant, aren’t you! Yes, there is a thin layer of plastic on the inside of the cup.”
At least he knew it was not 100% plastic – he was not being taken for a ride by the supplier. But that made it even worse. If he knew, why was he persisting with the duplicity?
“But, my dear chap, why? Isn’t the whole point to stop using plastic?”
The chap behind the counter seemed to be thinking what to say. At last, he seemed to have decided that honesty was, if not the best, the safest policy.
“Well, you know, the whole point is actually to make people stop talking about plastic”