It’s a slippery slope, this addiction.
It starts with an occasional frappuccino at Starbucks. Walking into the shop and sniffing the air, breathing deep. Enjoying the smell.
Then it’s a more frequent drive-thru at McDonalds to get an iced coffee. It’s planning the drive so the car just happens to pass by a McDonalds and there just happens to be $1.86 in the ashtray.
It escalates when it is discovered that the supermarket sells some excellent flavoured creamers which mimic the flavour of iced coffees. So I start making them at home. With instant coffee. And some afternoons I start to twitch because I haven’t had any caffeine (never mind the fact that I usually use decaf. I’m very sensitive! Or else I’m twitching for all together different reasons!)
Then, one day, I borrow a coffee maker from my mom so I can brew coffee for a friend that’s visiting who is a bonafide coffee snob. Only brewed coffee will do. She becomes the barista because I don’t know how to make brewed coffee. And the house fills with the smell. The scent from heaven. The stuff dreams are made of. Am I being dramatic enough?
So, now, I’m sitting here typing with my cup of coffee beside me. I brewed a pot of coffee and I’m enjoying it. Of course I made way too much because I’m still trying to figure it out. But I figure I can save it for later and make some nice iced coffee for Handsome later
As I was making this pot, I was thinking about the coming autumn and winter. I was thinking about how I could programme the coffee maker to start automatically so I can wake to the smell of coffee, just like in the Maxwell House commericals! Before I know it I’ll be stealing Gevalia coffee from my mom’s freezer in order to feed my snobbery.
I believe an intervention might be required.
Just be sure to bring coffee