Why I Got Free Coffee for Two Years

Portsmouth, NH—One day, on my way home from downtown Portsmouth, I stopped by the Mobil Mart that’s one block from my house to pick up a couple of things. Super close and super convenient, it had become an easy go to when I need a coffee or want to grab a snack or a lottery ticket. Ah, the dream of the lottery! 

After grabbing a couple things and selecting my lottery numbers, I approached the counter to pay. The cashier was a woman I had seen several times before, —taller than me, heavy set, with thick, long, brown frizzy hair and beady eyes, and as always, wearing the light blue button-down company shirt. I had come to know the faces of all the staff but still didn’t know their names.  

She rang up my items and I handed her my credit card. 

“We can’t take credit cards for lottery tickets. That’s gotta be paid for in cash.” 

“What?! What do you mean? I have definitely paid for a lottery ticket here before with my credit card,” I barked back, pissed off.

“I don’t think so”, she said calmly and without reaction. “Lottery tickets can only be purchased in cash.” 

“Fine!” I huffed. I turned away and stomped out of the store like a five-year-old not getting her way. I went home knowing my uncalled-for bratty mood would eventually pass.

I was still relatively new in Portsmouth at the time, trying to find ways to integrate myself (I had just moved to Portsmouth a year earlier). I had joined a group focused on sustainability work, was becoming more active with my neighborhood association, and getting to know more of my neighbors. I was loving the way my new life was unfolding and marveled at the contrast from years prior living in and around Boston, where I never knew my neighbors. The 180-degree experience I was having in Portsmouth from day one thrilled me. It was validation for exactly why I had moved here, -- to be part of a real community, and to contribute to that community. 

Over the next couple of weeks, I reflected on that Mobil Mart incident. Knowing that I had moved to Portsmouth to be a part of a real community made my behavior that day shameful. I was embarrassed. Real embarrassed. I knew that at some point I’d be back there for something and thought to myself—how could I show my face there after the way I behaved? I had come to realize that the staff at Mobil Mart are just as much my neighbors as the people in the houses next door to me. I saw them several times per month and knew their faces. And I loved having the Mobil Mart one block from my house to get gas, put air in my tires, grab a coffee, or some other convenience item. I was going to keep going back there.

Finally, one day, I ran up there to get a coffee. Just as I had hoped, the cashier on duty was the same gal who had previously denied me the purchase of a lottery ticket with a credit card. Perfect! I knew exactly what I was going to do with no hesitation, fear, nor nervousness. After all, I’m an adult, --not a five-year old.

I got my coffee, went to the counter, looked her in the eye, and spoke. 

“I was here a couple weeks ago and tried to buy a lottery ticket with my credit card but couldn’t. I got upset and was really rude to you. I just wanted to say that I’m really sorry for that. There was no reason for me to be that way to you.”

“It’s OK. I am not sure I remember but I appreciate that you brought it up. No one ever does that,” she responded. 

“Well, I live right around the corner and come here a lot, so it matters to me to apologize.” 

“Well, thanks. By the way, don’t worry about paying for the coffee. We’re good.”

Feeling a bit sheepish, like I don’t deserve a free coffee, I thanked her for the kind gesture and left. At the same time, I felt good about owning my behavior and having the courage to apologize for my transgression. In my heart of hearts, I knew how I acted that day was not in line with who I wanted to be as a member of this community. I didn’t want to live anonymously and feel like my actions didn’t matter because of that anonymity. I wanted to contribute positively to this beautiful and burgeoning town, just as many of my family members had done in their own communities and inspired me to do the same.

From that day on, I vowed to regard everyone in Portsmouth as my neighbor, whether literal or figurative, and to always be respectful. From that day on, I also continued to go back to the Mobil Mart when needed, and for the next two years that this gal worked the counter, she never let me pay for coffee ever again.