Thursday, June 16, 2011

Welcome back, coffee, you seductive mistress of flavor and caffeine.

Let it first be known that I haven't had coffee since President Bush was in office.


This one:

Now, as a young lad, I would have the occasional cup with my mom in the mornings. We'd talk about the latest poop (who pushed who on the playground, what Ninja Turtle was the coolest at that time, whether or not I was going to get a Sega Genesis that Christmas, etc.), and sip java from mugs with little images or locations on them (a picture of Snoopy one day, a mug from some lodge in Pennsylvania, the next).

Then, one day, I just stopped drinking coffee. I decided I didn't like the taste and that was it. Onto harder substances like cocaine and Special K and the occasional mainlining of heroin directly into the vein between my two smallest toes.

That said, it has been forever and a day since I've had any kind of "hard drugs". Christ, I haven't even smoked weed in like ... two and a half years. Right before I met my fiance', actually.

Well, on Monday, I was so exhausted and beat down at work, I needed a pick me up. Sauntering into the "cafe", I found myself staring at a metallic pot of freshly-brewed coffee. It smelled like coffee. The pot itself was hot as the fires of desire.

Grabbing a small, stylish pseudo-styrofoam cup, I pressed the spigot of the pot and watched as the nearly-black liquid began spilling over itself. My mind began racing with excitement, as it had been over a decade since my last journey to Java Mountain. I remembered sitting in my tighty-whitey underwear (you're welcome), watching the Ghostbusters cartoon and sipping from a large mug, while eating Nintendo cereal.



I poured in some fat free half and half (not even really knowing what half and half is, let alone what makes it fat free compared to regular half and half), then scooped in three small spoonfuls of sugar (because just one spoonful helps the medicine go down).

I grabbed a red stirrer from a large box that had Staples' unmistakable brand logo on it, and stirred slowly, the half and half magically smoking up through the black void in my cup, turning black to a soft-brown.

When I placed the cup to my lips and took that first steaming-hot sip, as the coffee entered my system, it felt like a chorus of beautiful sound and color had reawakened in my brain. Colors once forgotten are now burned into my soul forever.

Like these opening credits (to a shitty movie).

Without warning, my entire body lurched and woke from its two-decade old slumber. Everything was more sharp, more vibrant.

I was awakened.

So now, I pray at the altar of the coffee bean at least five times a day at work. I drink it from nine in the morning until eleven, while doing my work (getting more done, too, it would seem), and then, it's a non-stop ride to oblivion the rest of the day, fueled by caffeine, coffee, and the magic of a Columbian bean.

No comments:

Post a Comment