Today is the 14th of January of 2025. It was night at Time Hortons café. I ate Sea Salt Potato Wedges with Wildberry Hibiscus Lemonade Quencher. Joban the South Asian was my vendor. In the morning, I had a couple or more cups of Green Tea with Oat Milk, which, someone expressed, "tastes like ice cream." It was night at Starbucks café. I ate two Belgian Liège Waffles. The Brown Sugar Oat Cortado interestingly tasted like jackfruit. I was going to tell the Japanese-Anglo hybrid Chris the barista or Jess the Anglo barista. Money is just an inhibitor, sometimes. Money is poverty, sometimes. Life should always be sensual, a sensory wonderland. Life is ephemeral, full of fleeting experiences. Do I believe in the Akashic Records, the memory compendium about everything? The following day of the 15th, I saw Hans the Netherlander in his motorized wheelchair at Tim Hortons. We sat near the sun-drenched bay window, as we chatted and ate Sea Salt Potato Wedges. I was drinking Orange Pekoe tea with Oat Milk for a change.
Source: tatoeba (12980629)
I woke up early today. I started my café-hopping here on Lulu Island just after 5 in the night-like morning. I walked to Tim Hortons to have a Green Tea with Oat Milk and a Sausage Egg Cheese English Muffin. Pushpak the South Asian vendor was not there today. I was the only customer in the vast chamber. Then, I walked to Starbucks. My baristas were Nicole the Filipina and Jessica the Vietnamese. I was drinking a Brown Sugar Oat Cortado that comes in a cute, little ceramic mug. It tasted like jackfruit to me. Jessica from afar whispered loudly and solemnly, "Richmond is not like Asia." A regular, a big white man with white hair, sat with his tablet computer at a table near the washrooms. I thought that he was playing games on it. It was the 23rd of January of 2025.
Source: tatoeba (12999440)
We ordered a couple of shots and a couple of cortados and sat by the narrow, unglazed arch that overlooked the reservoir. 'To Yvan,' he declared, and I raised my aguardiente to his, chinking glasses to the insincere memory of [Yvan].
Source: wiktionary
"[…] and a couple of espressos. Make the lady's a cortado, you know, the way you add just a touch of steamed milk."
Source: wiktionary