 There are three cups in front of me.
A frappe, an americano, and a Greek coffee. The waitress did not believe me when i said they're all for me. I feel her gaze as she keeps observing me to see if I am serious.
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 “Do I need a ring?”
Again I find myself in a junk shop attempting to discern if I should buy something. I walk in, touch things, and once I feel something for an item, I look at the price. I ask myself if it’s worth it. A strip of leather for $150. I do not understand the price tag in my hand.
Understanding price is simple in theory. A calculation is required the involved the quality of ingredients, the craftsmanship, and rarity. Deciding to purchase is more complicated. It requires you to determine your current financial standing, your emotional state, future utility. I had turned twenty-one two weeks ago.
This occasion however was marred due to my deceit of the liquor store proprietors I had been visiting for over a year previous. Once they saw my true ID, they learned they knew was an impostor.  I’m standing in a corner store in the East Village. I am newly 18 and as tradition, make a pilgrimage to purchase my first pack of cigarettes. I have never smoked a cigarette, I have no brand loyalty.
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