When I was little, I was dragged to church. I never liked church at all. There were only two upsides to church. I got to get an extra hour of sleep in those really comfortable wooden pews. On Sunday’s after mass, they had coffee and donuts. Why it was the highlight of Sunday mass…I don’t know. The donuts weren’t anything spectacular. They had only two kinds. They offered glazed and those plain cake donuts. Does anyone actually eat plain cake donuts? Those are disgusting. But it was free and it was sugar. You’re like 12 or 13…free donuts is a gift from God. Since I was a kid, I didn’t drink coffee. I don’t know how many kids do. I am sure more do now. Seems like kids are growing up faster than ever. But anyway, instead of coffee, the church people offered “juice” for kids. I don’t know who decided to call this stuff juice. I don’t even want to know the person who decided that, “Wow! This stuff taste great! Let’s make gallons of this stuff and ship it off to school and churches!” It’s not even juice. I can’t explain what it is. You assume it’s orange juice. I mean the bulletin says, “coffee, donuts and juice.” Juice should have pulp in it. Not powder floating on top. So we figured it wasn’t juice and it wasn’t slice. I loved Slice! It was the coolest thing. It was Sunkist, but I liked Slice. Cause saying Slice was much more fun.
So it wasn’t either of those two. What is the church trying to pass off as juice? It was the nastiest stuff ever. I can still taste it to this day. So I finally decided I am fed up with this juice scam. I figured I want to be an adult, so I went for coffee. You get this little Styrofoam cup. It was like one sip and that was to satisfy your thirst. Plus those cups were the cheapest cups ever. Every sip you take from those cups, you somehow chew off a section of it. By the time you’re done with your coffee, you got a cup the size of a Petri dish. Where is the money we put in those baskets going? Obviously it’s not going to the real juice and better cup fund. So I get my coffee. I take a sip. Wow…this stuff is hot. But I feel older already. I can’t feel my tongue but I could feel the chest hair already coming in. I look around. Why are those people putting that stuff in their coffee? Should I do that? But that looks like a lot of work. Plus, they aren’t all putting in the same amount. That’s too confusing. I will just stick with it like this.
The above passage is from something I wrote about a year ago. This is about my love for coffee. I really don’t care where the coffee is from. Coffee is coffee to me. I’ll get it anywhere. But I will not put in cream or sugar. I don’t know what it taste like with it. I never will. I honestly don’t know how much to put in. I am sure people put in the amount they like. I rather not waste a cup of coffee trying to figure out how much I should add before it taste good.
I like cappuccino. That’s good. I stick with french vanilla. I’ve tried others. It’s more of a ritual. I’ll visit Quiktrip in the morning sometimes. I’ll go there if I am not in the mood for Bob Evans. So when I go to QT, I’ll get the same thing. Every time. A large cup of french vanilla cappuccino and two donuts. A chocolate long john and a maple long john. That’s my quiktrip meal. I can say, I don’t drink their coffee. It’s not that I don’t like it. I haven’t ever had it. I don’t know why I don’t. I am sure it’s fine. I just can’t break my ritual.
I think there is only three of us in my family that drink coffee. Maybe four. I think one only likes it if it’s made as a cappuchino. My mother lost the taste of coffee about 30 years ago. I don’t know if I’ll ever lose the taste for it. I love it too much. I can tell ya, drinking coffee and not smoking at the same time, it’s effin’ hard. I do miss smoking.
When I was little, I drank hot chocolate all the time. It didn’t matter if it was the middle of a heat wave. i still drank it. Now, I do it with coffee. Any weather, any time. My only stipulation to coffee is I cannot drink bold coffee. It hurts my heart. I can drink cups and cups of coffee and feel fine. But give me bold coffee and I’ll be dying.
I do want to say I am sorry for not posting for sometime. My internet was down. I am working, what feels like all day, and when I get home, I just can’t think. I still can’t. For being a picky eater, I am lacking on ideas. If I remember tomorrow, I’ll post something about what I plan on talking about soon. You know, give you something to look forward too. Thanks for reading,