I've been drinking too much coffee. I can’t help it. My sleep cycle’s still all kinds o’ screwed up. And yeah, I know, the java prolly ain’t helping. But I've been waking up early early and unable to get back to sleep, and then I crash early early early. But then I also start to crash in the middle of the day. And the middle of the morning. So what are you gonna do?
So yesterday, for instance, I woke up at 5:00am and that was all she wrote. So I did some laundry and headed into the office around 6:15am. And by 9:30am I was practically weeping with exhaustion. And by 10:00pm I was struggling to stay awake, hoping to get onto a more regular schedule. Or maybe because I’m just a big nancy.
Fortunately, there’s a good coffee bar just a block away. The problem is that it’s a good coffee bar. And I don’t really like good coffee much. Or at least not what most people consider good coffee. My favorite coffee in the world is probably the stuff you buy from the vendors on the street corners in the mornings in New York City. It’s been ten years since I had it, so maybe it’s no longer as great, or maybe I’m overrating it, but the stuff was like butter. Like smooth smoky butter. That kicks you in the ass and wakes you the hell up. For, like, a dollar per twenty ounces. Mmmm…nutritious, delicious, efficient and cheap as all get-out.
There’s certainly other good coffees too. F’r instance, my in-laws scored me some Kona coffee, which is rare (most of what folks think of as Kona is actually a blend, a mutt, not a purebred) and outstanding. But it’s also the price of liquid gold, so it’s not so much a regular occasion kind o’ drink. Not really something you guzzle mid-morning so’s you can be on top o’ your game.
So I avoid Starbucks both because I think they’re a bad company (and, no, not just because of how they wronged my boy Bruce Springsteen) and because I don’t like their coffee and as an extra bonus, because I tend to avoid the big chains in favor of the little moms and pops.
But I’m that way with beer too. I don’t generally like good beer. I love Guinness as a change of pace and I drink Sam Adams because the original guy was such the studmuffin, and my (old) local brew, Starr Hill Jomo Lager is like nectar, albeit nectar which will cause you to walk into walls if you have too much in too short a time, but when it comes right down to it, I like Miller Genuine Draft and Corona and, I'll admit it, because it returns me to those halcyon days of long ago, Busch in a bottle, something which is surprisingly (or perhaps not so much) hard to find. Hm. I wonder how Milwaukee’s Best would taste these days? Best not to find out, I suspect.
So I stopped at a gas station on the way into the office and grabbed a big ol’ thang of their “gourmet” coffee, which really isn’t, which means it’s really more my speed. Tasty and cheap. And, best of all, it worked.
[Meanwhile, to make things even more interesting, an hour later, after the coffee had gotten cold, I nuked it for half a minute in the same microwave, I realized after the fact, that someone had obviously overheated chicken soup in at some point, causing said soup to top its levees. Chicken soup and coffee—two great tastes that certainly do NOT taste great together.]
What can I say? I’m just an average joe, albeit one blessed with a hot and brilliant wife and five gorgeous and brilliant kids, all of whom are, alas, a bit of a ways away at present. And, alas alack, I also have coffee breath. Such is life. And such are the little things that make my wife not miss me quite so much.
your description of the street corner coffee in NYC just nearly made me weep with homesickness.
Posted by: xixi | Thursday, July 27, 2006 at 09:24 PM
Nice...
Posted by: Nancy, big and 8 months' pg | Friday, July 28, 2006 at 10:13 AM
your description of the street corner coffee in NYC just nearly made me weep with homesickness.
There was a cart right outside my office building when I was on staff (the first time), and I was often his last customer of the day--sauntering in as I would around 10:15, something which is just incomprehensible to me now--so after a while, if I asked for a donut or a muffin or something with my cuppa joe, he'd start tossing an extra one in, if he had more left since otherwise they’d just get thrown away. It eventually got to the point where even on the days I didn’t order anything to eat, he’d give me a blueberry muffin and a chocolate donut. And they was good, too. We even got to where we knew each other’s first names and we’d chat about what we’d done over the weekend; he and his wife spent a lot of time at her brother’s beach house during the weekend.
My last day he was talking to another customer—I’d gotten in a bit earlier than usual—so I didn’t have time to tell him I wouldn’t be around anymore. I left him a twenty dollar tip instead. I figured that was probably better than an actual “goodbye” anyway.
Posted by: scott | Friday, July 28, 2006 at 01:15 PM
I vote for your just being a big old Nancy.
But then again, probably shouldn't let the new neighbors find out about THAT.....
(which, if you think of it, is a sitcom in and of itself)
Posted by: Steve the LLamabutcher | Friday, July 28, 2006 at 05:55 PM
I vote for your just being a big old Nancy.
But then again, probably shouldn't let the new neighbors find out about THAT.....
(which, if you think of it, is a sitcom in and of itself)
Kinda like a Bosom Buddies type o' thang, only with all males? I think we've got ourselves a hit, baby!
Posted by: scott | Friday, July 28, 2006 at 06:20 PM