“Tea is just the poor man’s coffee,” Will said.
“What are you talking about?” Karin set her tea down on the table. “Have you seen the prices of tea lately? It’s hardly inexpensive. Coffee, you can get a tin that will do you for months for like, six bucks.”
“Yeah, but that’s crappy coffee. I wouldn’t feed that to my six year old.” Will folded his arms and looked across the table at his friend.
“I should hope not, you were just complaining about her energy levels.”
“Yeah. Kids are crazy. Anyway, you can get a box of tea for the same price.”
“You mean those lipton bags? Sure. But, like coffee, that’s crappy tea. You want a good drink, something full and flavourful, you need to get loose tea and steep it on your own. And that stuff can be expensive.”
“Everyone loves coffee though. Tea is just for snobs.”
Karin leaned back in her chair and folded her arms, mirroring Will. “Now you’re just trying to poke holes in my drink of choice. I get it. You don’t like tea. I never said you have to. All I said was that I love it, and think it’s great.”
Will leaned forward. “But you implied I should like it, too.”
“I offered you a sip, Will. When I ordered the pear matcha, you said it sounded good, so I offered you some to taste. It’s called being polite.”
“Well, thank you, Karin, for being so polite,” Will said, leaning back again. “I’ll try a sip, but my point stands. Tea is for poor people, coffee is a rich man’s drink.”
“That’s just all kinds of offensive.”
“Whatever, give me a sip.”
“Get your own.”