The best part of waking up is not folgers in your cup, but coffee in general--delicious, wonderful coffee. For me this month it is Wolfgang Puck's estate grown coffee (estate grown, what does that even mean, Wolfgang? and yeah, I did buy it at Walmart). Last month it was Cafe Du Monde chicory blend...There is something wonderful about coffee, the way it tastes, the way it makes you feel--coffee is like some sort of magic juice. Sometimes I call it the juice of life (I also call Jack Daniels that--another story, another time, kids).
Tracy Jordan reminds us that "coffee is not like alcohol, it's very addictive." (as well as "freakie deakies need love too," words to live by, people.) I'm sure you can imagine how I feel when I don't get to drink my precious coffee in the morning. I don't joke around when I drink coffee. I like my coffee like I like my cast iron fences: black.
Sometimes it is difficult to order black coffee at certain establishments, more specifically, McDonalds. Now don't get me wrong, I love McDonalds, and they make a pretty good cup of joe. It's just I seem to be the only person in America who orders black coffee from McDonalds. When I place my order, I usually have to reiterate no cream, no sugar. Once in VA a kid behind the counter asked his manager if they could even make it without cream or sugar. Then, the manager asked me if I was sure I wanted it that way. Oh I was sure alright, cause that's how I like it. Scratch that, that's how I LOVE it.
This morning, though, an unfortunate incident happened regarding my beloved coffee. I brewed my wondrous cup, poured it into my travel mug, and got in my car. As I pulled away from my apartment, I took my first long awaited sip. At first it tasted excellent, but Wolfgang Puck's estate coffee quickly gave way to the taste of palmolive soap. BLECHHHHH. I took another sip, and a few more. I had to be sure it was ruined before I gave up on it. I decided that there must have been soap left on the lid, and washed it quickly once I arrived at work. Sure that the problem was fixed, I took a test sip. But alas, the soapy addition was not on the lid of my travel mug, it was in the coffee itself--a terrible realization, really. I thought about drinking it still--for a split second--and took another sip, but that palmolive aftertaste encouraged me to dump it down the drain.
It really is kind of silly if you think about it. I guess that's what I get for saying too many bad words in my blog or when I drive. Like my mom always threatened she would, life just washed my mouth out with soap because I said too many bad words. But gee life, did you really have my ruin my coffee to teach me that lesson?
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