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Written by NukeDad
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Wednesday, 07 January 2009 |
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  I got sick last week. I had the coffee fever. I’ve never had it before, but something tells me this isn’t the last time I’ll be battling the caffeine fiend. I don’t know how the hell I caught it. I thought I had built up a resistance to it by ingesting un-godly amounts of Dr. Pepper over the last 20 years or so, but like preventative antibiotics, eventually it became useless.
It started one evening when I was enjoying a nice cool glass of vitamin P and the thought occurred to me; wouldn’t it be great if they could make this taste bitter? Maybe they could make it hot too; and serve it in a mug with really stupid sayings on it. Or maybe put a radio station logo on there. The PR implications are endless when you think about it. The next day at the grocery store I ventured down an aisle I knew existed; but had never had the courage to steer my gimp wheeled cart down; The Coffee Aisle.
It’s kind of hard to miss, really. You can smell it when you enter the parking lot before you get out of your car. I think it has something to do with the 23 pounds of spilled coffee beans that customers have dropped on the floor and then conveniently kicked under the racks to assuage their guilt at being so sloppy.
Another reason that I’ve avoided this aisle over the years is that this is the land of #10 cans of peaches, gallon jars of Mayo and ramen noodles by the case. Where else are they going to put that stuff? The coffee aisle is perfect for it because that’s an aisle that you have to really want to go down; no impulse purchasing here. No blinking coupon holders or “Insta-sav!” UPC stickers on this aisle; just coffee and all the crap that people are too embarrassed to ask about.
Hazelnut had teased me on my previous visit (could be when I contracted the illness), so after decimating the cheese cooler I turned my rickety buggy down Coffee Row. The sheer volume of flavors was overwhelming. If the smell didn’t render you unconscious, the decision on which flavor to buy would. I went straight for the fancy grind-your-own section. None of that Folgers or Maxwell House slumming for me.
I had once seen someone eat a spoonful of Folgers Instant Crystals because they were that desperate for coffee, and it had totally wigged me out. In fact; that incident is probably the reason I had fought for so long to get caffeine in my body in every form possible except for coffee. I didn’t want to end up like that poor spoon sucking junkie. It’s not like I ever had to watch someone with a mouth full of ice cubes suck on a teabag because they were that desperate for some Iced Tea. If that’s what being a coffee drinker does to you; then count me out.
The top of the grinder bins were too high for me to get my nose in to catch a whiff and I wasn’t about to start scaling grocery shelves. I noticed lots of coffee beans in the little plastic trays under the grinders and picked a few up. I held them under my nose and waved my hand to waft the scent to my awaiting nostrils. Like an AIG wine snob smelling the cork of a $300 bottle of bailout wine. I couldn’t smell a thing. I thought about putting one in my mouth to see if that would help, but I had that Folgers Instant Crystal flashback to save me. I finally stuck my nose close enough to the grinder chutes to get a decent interpretation of what the flavor would be. I went back and forth between Hazelnut Crème and French Vanilla. French Vanilla won.
The store had thoughtfully packaged each flavor in nice 2oz “Sample This Flavor at Triple the Cost” bags, so I picked one of those. No sense in grinding up a pound or two only to find out that I didn’t really like it that much. I tossed it in the cart and headed for the checkout.
The next morning I brewed my first ¼ pot of French Vanilla coffee. I filled my coffee mug (a PR gift from an old employer) and then added 2 sweet and lows and a little milk. Then I added another sweet and low and a little more milk. By the second cup I had my ratio set: ¾ cup coffee, 4 sweet and low then fill to the top with milk. It was damn tasty if I do say so myself!
Four days later my fever broke. I had been back twice to sample 2oz packages of Hazelnut and more French Vanilla. I had also read some labels and became embroiled in the “Fair Trade Certified” brouhaha and was feeling guilty about the rainforests for some reason. Did I have the time, effort and energy it would take to be a coffee drinker? Was I setting myself up to becoming a full time “user”? Sure, it starts in the grocery store, but before you know it you’re tenth in line at Starbucks paying $6 for your cup and $6 for the guy behind you. I can’t afford this habit. I put the French Roast back on the shelf and headed for the soda aisle. Dr. Pepper 12 packs were on sale for $2.75 a piece; and they're good to the last drop. |
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Nuke Dad
