Cheap coffee

A cup of cheap coffee is the worst thing in the world. It drains out of every corroded coffee maker in every law firm in the country and I hate it. It’s not bad enough that the receptionists never run some cleaner through the coffee maker so all the mineral deposits and gunk build up. They also have to buy big gallon-sized cans of God-awful over roasted coffee with the picture of some weird guy on the front. Then it sits in the cabinet oxidizing and getting rancid for the month it takes to work through that huge can, two scoops at a time.

This stuff is absolutely awful. Those office managers and partners who perpetuate it deserve special condemnation. I mean, there’s lots of great coffee out there. I know you cheap coffee people know the difference between good and bad coffee but you don’t care. Everybody who gets tortured with your cheap coffee in the office sees you showing up first thing in the morning with a big latte from Starbucks. You could have bought a decent bag of beans this morning.

I’ve tried but there is no way to convince you that cheap coffee is awful. The longer the pot sits there on the burner the worse the coffee gets and the more you grin and say you love it. Sometimes you load it up with really cheap powdered creamer flavored like fake amaretto. My favorite, though, is the cheap coffee person who has to throw in two packets of fake sugar that tastes like bad chemicals. You’re adding insult to injury and you don’t even notice.

Cheap coffee is your drug and you need it like a junkie needs their fix. You know you’re addicted and you hate it, and you hate yourself for needing it. It’s even worse than that, though. Junkies just get their fix once a day. You keep going back for refills all day long. The worse the sludge at the bottom of the pot gets the better it makes you feel. Your smile gets wider. It’s masochism in a cup and you need it.

What your drink says about you: You are overworked and close to another heart attack. Cheap coffee is keeping you alive but just barely. You wish you could find another career before that ulcer puts you in the hospital again.

Your hobby: Golf or something equally boring. Anyway, as soon as you get out of the office you hit the booze so who cares.

You wear: Old, worn out clothes that were in style ten years ago. Your belts are wearing out but you never replace them. Your shoes are wearing out too, but you have no energy to do anything about it.

Your car: A good, sturdy blue Volvo.

-Samuel Owen

© Samuel Owen 2012. All rights reserved. Please read important notices and disclaimers by clicking here.

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