Dear Editor,

I'm not like everyone else in town. I'm not looking to force the royals to be better law enforcement people. I don't hold an opinion one way or another on what Mayor Mills should focus her time on. I'm not swayed in any direction about the plight of our economy, our housing market, our social class structure, or the current state of our supplies.

In fact, I'm pretty apathetic to just about everything that gets thrown at us. I mean, it doesn't matter what I or anyone else says or does. It's all going to happen anyway, and I figure it's just best to make the best of whatever, kind of like that Rancher said about a month ago.

I don't ask for much. I don't want much. I don't expect much. It lets me live a pretty small and unfulfilling yet non-disappointed life.

That said, I do have some basic human requirements, and, before you ask, I've always been human, thank you. One of those basic requirements is coffee.

Now, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that we have coffee in this town, so why am I whining? You're right to think that, but you'd be wrong about us having coffee in this town. What we have in this town is diner coffee and what's left of the dwindling supply at the grocery store.

This, my fellow citizens, is a problem.

For, you see, none of that is decent coffee. I'm not sorry nor ashamed to call a spade and spade, and the dark sludge at the diner is terrible. What's left at the grocery store is a freeze dried mess that once had been coffee but is now nothing more than a sad, sorry excuse for a once wonderful and aromatic bean.

Before the first curse was broken, I used to special order this amazing roast from a place all the way down in Texas of all places. An amazing specialty roast, it was a nice medium yet bold flavor with hints of hazel nut, vanilla, and cream. It was like drinking something from a dream and worth every penny I paid to have it shipped in. I'd ship it in wholesale. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if they were starting to think I was reselling the stuff.

Obviously, I wasn't, but I'm down to my very last bag, and I have no way to order more.

I'm not the only one with this particular problem. Ken Hanes has been special ordering a wine from Martha's Vineyard for decades now, and he's completely out, which is a travesty because, as many of us know, visiting him and having a glass while listening to him play is a highlight in this town. No more lovely nights and cool guitar enjoyment for us. Ken's so upset he can't get is favorite wine anymore that he's been moping around for the past month.

Kash Desai special orders hummus from I don't know where, which he uses for some kind of traditional Middle Eastern dish that we'll never taste again, and then there's the hospital.

Mike Hwang told me the other day that he went in to grab some antibiotics, and the hospital told him they were rationing what medicine they had left until they could figure out a way to create or replenish their stock, so they suggested a few home remedies and sent him home.

This all really disturbing to me, and I think we should start thinking about other things we've been importing into our town that we can't get anymore, but, mostly, we need to figure out a way for me to get my coffee back because I have needs.

I have coffee needs.

They are not being fulfilled.

All I'm asking for here is some decent coffee. I don't think this is too much to ask. I'm not asking for anyone to change the pecking order of the town, or change how procedures are done, or anything else momentous like that. I'm just asking for coffee.

In need of my fix,

Cris Santos