I’ve smelled it, of course. I’ve been around people who use it regularly. It’s permeated our culture in a way that few substances have. Yet, I’ve never tried it. How is this even possible?
I’m talking about coffee. It’s never passed over my lips and I’m not sure why.
My parents have been mainlining it since I was a child. I lived with my grandmother for two years during graduate school, and she’d periodically ask me if I was drinking coffee yet, knowing full well that I wasn’t.
During my first real job -- which involved a lot of committee management and event planning -- we coined the phrase, “it all comes down to coffee,” since, really, it often seemed to.
I was on a commercial shoot 10 years ago in Austin, Texas. Our first morning there, I ambled downstairs to the lobby Starbucks, looked at the “barista,” and politely asked for a fountain drink.
Wrong question. She looked at me like I’d just run over her dog.
“Ummm, we don’t have those,” she said, barely hiding her displeasure at my benign request. “Just what you see in the cooler there.” I snagged a bottled beverage to go with my overpriced scone and sauntered away in search of my self-confidence.
Have you ever listened to someone order at a full-service coffee establishment? To an untrained ear like mine, the orders are more complicated than directions given in a nuclear power plant control room.
“I’ll have a venti caramel macchiato mocha chino latte with two shots of espresso and extra foam.” I have no idea what I just said there, but it sounded impressive, right?
I’d really like to try coffee some time. Until that day comes, I’ll just be content to know that Ariana Grande is a pop star and not a beverage.
I’m Wester Wuori, and that’s my de-caffeinated perspective.
