"Depresso: The feeling you get when you've run out of coffee." --unknown
Prompt #17: Coffee. Love it, hate it? Why?
NOM, I say.
I love coffee. Even though I don't drink it every day.
I love the taste, adding cream to make it richer, and the way it signifies the end of a meal and the portion of the evening where you get to chat with a friend while you enjoy dessert.
I like the warms it gives my belly.
I like that coffee can be enjoyed black or with any number of accouterments to make it more delectable.
I like remembering that my grandmother began offering me coffee when I turned 13 because I was officially Old Enough for an adult beverage. (Of course I thought it was disgusting then, but I still accepted a cup because WOOHOO I ARE MATOOR.)
I used to make it at home, but I eventually stopped because I only ever wanted one cup and I was pouring most of the pot down the drain. (Sacrilege!)
I tend to go to Starbucks or Henry's, a local coffeehouse here in Indy. I know it's expensive to drink coffee in restaurants, but I think I'm also paying for the allure. I tend to be at coffeehouses with a friend for a chat or with my laptop to get some work done. There's something awesome and magical about settling in with a latte and just gazing out the window (while a deadline looms). It reminds me of the romance of smoking. I was always much more into unwrapping a pack of cigarettes, selecting a smoke, lighting up, and hearing the tobacco start to burn than I was about the actual act.
(Of course now I want a cup of coffee and a cigarette.)
I won't say a cup of coffee is a cup of love (a sentiment modeled after a take-it-down-a-notch bottled water commercial I recently saw), but it's certainly more than just hot water and a fine, caffeinated powder that has kept me out of prison on more than one occasion.