There is perhaps nothing more defeating than the sight of hot coffee running in little streams down the rear windshield of your car. It somehow managed to balance while you were backing out, but when you put the car in drive and hit the gas, the hot cup of java that you carefully doctored lost it balance and spilled all over the top of your car. And you really need that coffee. You need the warm, milky, caffeinated goodness to jumpstart your nervous system and bring you back to life. But you stare in despair at the drips of light brown that run down the glass. Mocking your drowsy incompetence.
So you pull the car into another parking space and retrieve the cup that once contained such promise. And you ask yourself "If I go back into the coffee shop, can I use this cup again and get a free refill?" As you ponder this question, you decide that the need for a hot beverage is superior to any potential guilt that might result from working the system. So you slink into the coffee shop and redo the coffee making drill.
And as you back out of the parking space, the pool of coffee that had settled on to your roof flows in tiny rivulets on to the windshield, a subtle reminder that you have trouble waking up.