7:50am, an average middle aged man walks up and sits in front of a coffee shop with a half empty plastic bottle of sports drink in his hand. Guilt and shame radiate from the man as he looks around, careful not to make any eye contact. He is waiting for the liquor store next door to open at 8.
The front door unlocks and he is in. Moments later, back at his seat, trying to be discreet, he pours from a pint bottle into the plastic bottle. Frustration burns the man as his shaking hands make the task nearly impossible. After stowing the pint in his pocket, he desperately drinks from the plastic bottle with two shaking hands; as though he had been lost in the Gobi for weeks.
With the plastic bottle empty he looks around, clearly wanting to throw it away in a proper receptacle, but the only trash cans are inside. So he bashfully puts the bottle as far out of sight as he can and walks away.
Maciolekism 