Revenge of Coffee
So, it appears that I spend a good deal of my time and resources purchasing, making, drinking, enjoying, thinking about, reminiscing upon and sometimes even complaining about coffee. I learned today that coffee does not return the favor. My last post was about coffee, and I declared that I was on a quest to create an American coffee revolution. Today, coffee called my bluff. The war is on!
Before going further, let me allay some of your thoughts of what the revenge of coffee may be. As coffee tends to accelerate the digestion process, and as caffeine is a natural diuretic, you may be thinking that coffee revenge is something like Montezuma's revenge. It is not. This does not mean that coffee doesn't do these things to me. It does, but I see this as a natural price to pay. No, no, no. This is not what started the war.
Background: I have a portable coffee cup. It is vacuum sealed, meaning that the only way to access its warm, delicious, caffeinated contents is to click a certain button. It does not spill unless the button is depressed. I have tested this countless times. I've thrown the cup in the air, dropped it, put it in coat pockets, shaken it over my head, etc. As long as that button is not clicked, it is an impregnable fortress.
Having a lot of faith in this wonderful invention that has (to be fair) greatly improved my life in the past, I began my day today as normal. I got up, had half of the coffee that I made, and put the other half in my 100% leak-proof cup. I threw my cup in my backpack along with my books, notes, and basically everything that I've been working on all quarter.
When I arrived at school on this rainy morning, I noticed my backpack was damp. This was no cause for alarm, given that it was indeed a rainy morning (in case you missed that part about the morning being rainy). I wasn't alarmed until I felt my backpack, and noticed that this wasn't the kind of cold wet that rain makes a backpack. No, no, no. This was warm wet.
Ever noticed that warm wet is never a good feeling? Anything wet that you touch that is still warm is an automatic cause for freaking out. I always think blood or urine and AIDS or cultures of swimming diseases, or something gross like that. There was just a guy down South that peed in a bottle of Mountain Dew, put it back on the shelf of the convenience store where he worked, sold it to a man who gulped most of it, and ended up in the hospital. This man was clearly not suspicious enough of warm wet. So anyway, we've established this: warm wet, and especially warm mysterious wet is scary.
Back to my story. It didn't take long after the initial warm mysterious wet freak-out moment to establish the cause of the wet (which effectively downgraded the status from warm mysterious wet back to just warm wet). It was especially easy to determine the cause since there was a black-ish, heavenly-smelling, brown puddle underneath my bookbag. My leakproof cup had failed me miserably.
It would be a slight exaggeration to say coffee was everywhere. Especially in the wake of two major hurricanes that didn't hit Ohio, so they clearly were not everywhere. Anyway, the coffee was not everywhere in the world, but everything in my bookbag had certainly been touched. Currently, my text books are lying next to my fan. Hopefully they will be dry enough before morning to be useful. All my papers are still legible, but pretty dark and more caffeinated than education notes should be. It was not a total loss, but I do feel like many of my things look like they could have come out of New Orleans residences.
So this is what I get for starting a coffee revolution?!
Coffee called my bluff. I can't win this war. As angry as I am that this happened, tonight, before I go to bed, I will set the coffee maker. Tomorrow, I will drink one cup of coffee, and I will pour the rest into my faithless, whorish green travel spill-proof mug (though I will test to make sure that the button is completely depressed - even though it was depressed this morning, I checked). I will still take it to school, and I will repeat the pattern until I become angry enough to abandon coffee. It will never happen. I'm like Hosea.
Coffee wins round 1 of the Revolution, and I'm not sure there will be a Round 2. It is better to be miserable with coffee than to be miserable without coffee.
Before going further, let me allay some of your thoughts of what the revenge of coffee may be. As coffee tends to accelerate the digestion process, and as caffeine is a natural diuretic, you may be thinking that coffee revenge is something like Montezuma's revenge. It is not. This does not mean that coffee doesn't do these things to me. It does, but I see this as a natural price to pay. No, no, no. This is not what started the war.
Background: I have a portable coffee cup. It is vacuum sealed, meaning that the only way to access its warm, delicious, caffeinated contents is to click a certain button. It does not spill unless the button is depressed. I have tested this countless times. I've thrown the cup in the air, dropped it, put it in coat pockets, shaken it over my head, etc. As long as that button is not clicked, it is an impregnable fortress.
Having a lot of faith in this wonderful invention that has (to be fair) greatly improved my life in the past, I began my day today as normal. I got up, had half of the coffee that I made, and put the other half in my 100% leak-proof cup. I threw my cup in my backpack along with my books, notes, and basically everything that I've been working on all quarter.
When I arrived at school on this rainy morning, I noticed my backpack was damp. This was no cause for alarm, given that it was indeed a rainy morning (in case you missed that part about the morning being rainy). I wasn't alarmed until I felt my backpack, and noticed that this wasn't the kind of cold wet that rain makes a backpack. No, no, no. This was warm wet.
Ever noticed that warm wet is never a good feeling? Anything wet that you touch that is still warm is an automatic cause for freaking out. I always think blood or urine and AIDS or cultures of swimming diseases, or something gross like that. There was just a guy down South that peed in a bottle of Mountain Dew, put it back on the shelf of the convenience store where he worked, sold it to a man who gulped most of it, and ended up in the hospital. This man was clearly not suspicious enough of warm wet. So anyway, we've established this: warm wet, and especially warm mysterious wet is scary.
Back to my story. It didn't take long after the initial warm mysterious wet freak-out moment to establish the cause of the wet (which effectively downgraded the status from warm mysterious wet back to just warm wet). It was especially easy to determine the cause since there was a black-ish, heavenly-smelling, brown puddle underneath my bookbag. My leakproof cup had failed me miserably.
It would be a slight exaggeration to say coffee was everywhere. Especially in the wake of two major hurricanes that didn't hit Ohio, so they clearly were not everywhere. Anyway, the coffee was not everywhere in the world, but everything in my bookbag had certainly been touched. Currently, my text books are lying next to my fan. Hopefully they will be dry enough before morning to be useful. All my papers are still legible, but pretty dark and more caffeinated than education notes should be. It was not a total loss, but I do feel like many of my things look like they could have come out of New Orleans residences.
So this is what I get for starting a coffee revolution?!
Coffee called my bluff. I can't win this war. As angry as I am that this happened, tonight, before I go to bed, I will set the coffee maker. Tomorrow, I will drink one cup of coffee, and I will pour the rest into my faithless, whorish green travel spill-proof mug (though I will test to make sure that the button is completely depressed - even though it was depressed this morning, I checked). I will still take it to school, and I will repeat the pattern until I become angry enough to abandon coffee. It will never happen. I'm like Hosea.
Coffee wins round 1 of the Revolution, and I'm not sure there will be a Round 2. It is better to be miserable with coffee than to be miserable without coffee.
posted by Andy at 9:51 PM
3 Comments:
Andy, Your post reached me in so many ways. I too am a coffee addict and have a portable coffee cup. I understand what trust has been lost here. Mine, once, too was fullproof then my roomate put it in the dishwasher hmmm, not so much now. I laughed so hard at your post. There is life to live after spilt coffee. Take care, Good luck, and God Bless.
Yeah, it is better 'to be miserable with coffee'. I am a recovering coffee addict and I had to put away my portable coffee cup. The post bought humor to my day. Thanks.
I can see that Wright State is so boring you have to make up fun stories about something bad that happend there.
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