How many idiots does it take to make a cup of coffee? I have been sitting in the same coffee shop I have gone to for 46 years and this generation’s youth doesn’t know how to make a damn cup of coffee. This coffee shop is the only one that allows people without their happiness. That's probably why the coffee sucks.

 The biggest dumbass of all calls, “Hot Black Coffee for Carl,” and hands me the bitterest piece of crap coffee they have put in a dull green cup, like mucus. My back strains as I walk to the same window seat I have plopped down in every morning at 6:43 am. Some couple sits in my seat and I can feel my feet move faster.
“Get out of my seat,” I grumble as I slam my hands on the ripped up booth.
The kids stare at me in utter confusion. I grumble again which frightens them, making them jump up out of the booth.
“Chill out old man,” one of the kids says as they walk to another booth. I take a seat, and stare out the foggy window. My knobby fingers draw a thin heart in the sheen glaze of coldness over the window. I fix my glasses from falling off my long nose. My arms cross, my fingers scratching at the surface of the table. It is now 6:50 and she will be here soon. I miss her sweet complexion. I haven’t seen her in years.
Alice walks past the foggy window and I can see her pink handbag. Her hair sways as she walks in with her business outfit on. She holds the hand of my annoying granddaughter. Addy, my 7 year old grand kid, kicks her sequined shoes around as her mother struts quickly towards the booth I occupy. Everyone’s head turn, glumly, as a happy person enters the only unhappy coffee shop in all of Manhattan.

“Hi dad, it’s been awhile huh? Are you sure Addy can stay with you? If it’s too much trouble I can find a babysitter.” she avoids eye contact and sits Addy down in the ripped booth seat.

I nod my head. Addy starts to giggle as she takes the pink sugar packets and builds a house. I grab one packet and try to add it to the top but the whole thing swooshes down slowly sending an awkward feeling in the air. Addy’s smile fades to a slight frown.

“Alice, don’t worry she will be fine. See you in 2 weeks.” My hands touch Alice’s hands out habit but she pulls away quickly. 

“Thanks dad, it’s a huge help, since Rick left.” Her face turns dull. Alice waves, walks out, down towards Grand Central Station.

I stand up and some imbecile backs right into me, pushing me right back into the stiff seat. The man apologizes and I wave him off when he tries to help me back up. Idiot. I take Addy’s small hand and lead her into the streets of Manhattan.
The street corners fill with a large group of idiotic tourists and sightseers. I hate people like that. It’s New York, nothing special. Plus why would people want to see the unhappy part of town. My hand grips Addy’s hand hard, as the crowd grows wider and wider. A red light flashing in my face makes me grip my hands even harder, almost squeezing Addy’s hand off. The thing keeps flashing over and over, never turning green. The breeze swirls around our heads, twirling Addy’s bright pink pom pom on her head round and round.
The smell of snow fills my nose. I can smell when it is coming. Snowflakes begin  to spill from the sky. Yuck. Snow is frozen dirty water. Who enjoys cold, dirty muck falling from the sky?  I don’t know why I can do this but it has always been a weird thing I have always been able to do. The first time I smelled it was right before my parents died when they slid off the road and off the highway.
Addy sticks her tongue out to catch snowflakes and the stupid red light finally turns green and we cross the street. Addy begins to pull my jacket. Her smile grows as she points to all the bright lights in Time Square. She has gotten happiness, but I didn’t. My parents never left me my happiness. My daughter, Alice, got her happiness from the grandfather clock she used to sit in front of for hours, just watching it click back and forth. That’s what I gave her when it was time for her to receive her happiness at 18.  But I never got mine, since my parents were dead days before I turned 15. Since my parents died, I wasn’t aloud to be given my happiness, only the father is allowed to give it away.  I had to grow up with my dumb aunt and uncle, who were always happy.
Happiness leads you into that world, the world where Alice lives. Most people in Manhattan are happy but there is a small portion of us who never received ours. The rules for us unhappy people are stupid but we have to follow them or we will die. First, we cannot go into Happy stamped stores. Your face is scanned and sent to a computer which either opens the door to the store, restaurant, etc. or you get thrown out onto the street. Second, we have to live in the crappiest part of town while the happy people live in the rich, penthouses. Lastly, we cannot make eye contact with happy people over the age 18. That's why Alice never looks at me. It hurts every time.
Although, I never felt like I needed it because I had Alice and that's all I needed. But one day, Alice was gone and I never saw her anymore. I always regret giving her that clock because I knew she would never come back and I was right. Although I wasn’t happy and she was, so she needed to go, she had to be with other happy people. When I saw her today, I didn’t feel the same as I did when she was a kid. And I don’t feel that happy feeling I felt with Alice, with Addy. I wish I did but I don’t.
Snow is twirling hard around our heads now and we begin to run. I see the red sign with big fluorescent letters that read “Avenue Apartments”. I have lived in this apartment complex for 40 years, even since Alice was a little girl. I was 21 when I moved here. Alice’s mother dropped her on my doorstep. A thick cardstock piece of paper stuck out of the baby carrier Alice occupied on my doorstep. The card read “Dear Carl, this is Alice, she is yours and I can’t be good to her like you can. Take care of her.” I didn’t know she existed until that day. But she was my everything. Even if we lived in that crappy apartment.
Addy got her happiness since her father left. Our asshole president recently passed a law that you have to receive your happiness when you are 18 if your parents are together but if your parents split up, you can receive it at any age. I am glad that law wasn’t around when Alice was a kid. I don’t understand how Addy can be so happy all the time. It’s annoying. We unhappy people aren’t allowed to vote for anything, because we will “cause everyone to be upset with our decisions.”
The grumpy doorman greets Addy with a sarcastic smile as she pulls me towards the rusted elevator. Addy’s fingers run along the round buttons until she punches the number 7.  The elevator creaks as it pushes up to the 7th floor. The brass doors open revealing the 7th floor. The floor creaks as Addy stomps to the apartment. I stick the key in and unlock the door. Addy sprints through the door, chuckling softly.
Addy busts through the creaky door to her mother’s old room. I turn to enter the living room. The carpet has stains soaked in it from years of juice and spaghetti-o’s spills. It smells like spoiled milk and feet. Thick layers of dust stick to cracked windows and the curtains fray at the end. The rest of the house looks just like this living room.
But the walls in Alice’s room are still the bright pink Alice picked out when she turned 15. That room is the only thing that still brings any sort of joy in this apartment.  Addy giggles as she plays with the ragged dolls Alice loved as a kid.
The draft from the windows runs along my wrinkled arms. I sit back on the torn up sofa and kick my gray boots to the corner. My fingers run along the TV remote and I switch on the hockey game.  I pull off my large cardigan and slip a large hockey t-shirt. My gray hair hangs over my eyes, blocking my view.
The game gets cut off by a commercial for some dumb product that no one will ever buy. I slowly got up to get a cup of coffee, which I know how to make, but then perky young women spoke loudly from the TV. “Have you lost your happiness, or never received it?” Her voice trails off the 4 inch speakers that stood up in the corner of the room. I slowly turn to face the TV. “You are in luck. Everyone’s happiness is logged in our system, so you can get it any day, even if your father hasn’t given it to you.” Her mouse voice begins get on my nerves but my brain starts spinning. I can get my happiness, and stop having to suffer. I can be with Alice. A phone number pops on the screen in a thick purple font reading 212-675-3738. My fingers shake as I grab the nearest piece of paper which is a Chinese takeout food menu and write it down.
Addy runs out crying. One of the dolls from Alice’s room’s head fell off. I smile and almost ignoring Addy. When I get my happiness, I can be with Alice again. She will finally accept me when I find it. Alice will look at me again.
I fix the doll and Addy stops crying. My hands grab the phone and slowly punch in the numbers to the happiness center. The phone rings and my heart thumps. Ring. Thump. Ring. Thump. “Hello, welcome to Happiness Center, for everyone who wants to be happy,” an automated voice calls out into my wrinkling ears. “Press one for customer service, press two for help finding you happiness, press 3 for a different language.” My pale fingers press the 2 and the phone rings again. “Hello, Carl, This is Naomi Sin speaking. I work for the president. That commercial you just saw was especially designed for you. I have been watching you for years. So you are one lucky guy because our president has chosen you to receive you happiness.  Carl welcome to the beginning of your life.” I start feeling hot, my face turning a bright red. “But we warn you about the consequences of getting your happiness late. You can lose people that have already gotten their happiness. But welcome to being happy. It’s great.”
A shudder of excitement forms over my body. My parents actually left me my happiness? Can I trust this woman?
The woman from the phone keeps talking, “You can find your happiness in Alice’s room, in Addy’s hands.
I walk towards Alice’s room. My happiness is behind that door. I close my eyes and walk in. My eyes slowly roll open and a children’s book rests in Addy’s hands. I stand there, stunned. I start to scream into the phone. 
“You cannot be serious. A children’s book. That's my happiness. My parents left me this piece of crap. I have waited 46 years for this dumb kid’s book. I cannot believe this is supposed to make me happy.” I start to feel blood rush in my head. My hands rip the book from Addy’s hands and hurl it at the stone wall. Addy stares at me with fear in her eyes. The blood stops pumping and I feel a pain in my chest. The same tears from before are forming in her innocent eyes. She wasn’t happy. She is supposed to be happy; at least that's what our nation says. We can’t be happy until we have an object and that defines where you can go, shop, eat. But no. Not everyone is happy all the time even when you have your happiness. She wasn’t happy right now, I wasn’t happy right now. How could anyone be happy right now? With this world that we live in.
I run over to the book, and look inside. A note falls from the binding. My fingers pull the edges apart and words are revealed.

Dear Carl,
This is your happiness but it doesn’t have to be. You can be happy with anything you have. When we had you, we couldn’t be happier even if we already had our happiness. You are our happiness. When you have a kid, make sure they are your happiness too. 
      Love,
Mom and Papa.

I feel a warm sensation fill in my eyes. A tear rolls down my face. I grab the book and walk into the living room. I throw the tiny book out into the snow-covered streets. The woman on the phone yells loudly “You will pay. This isn’t the end. You will be unhappy forever.” I smile and hang up.  I grab Addy’s coat, call for her and we rush out the door. I have to find Alice.
The air feels cold against my hot skin. I put Addy down and hug her. I start looking for trains to meet up with Alice on her business trip. We start walking back to the apartment and my phone begins to ring. The caller ID reads Alice. My fingers press the green accept button. I press my ear against the phone and say “Hello, Alice? I have something great to tell you” Someone familiar, but not Alice, evilly begins to speak, “Hi, Carl London. It’s Naomi Sin again.  I have some bad news. Alice has been killed because you threw out your goddamn happiness. How will you be happy now? She is dead. ” My phone hits the concrete. Addy turns and says “What’s wrong Grandpa?”