Friday, May 2, 2014

Smell The Coffee - Itʼs Blue !

     Lots of people when it comes to having coffee outside the home you will visit the nearest Starbucks. I have to admit that it has a certain ambiance that makes one feel more sophisticated as we chat and sip away.
     This night was a father/daughter date, which allows an opportunity to strengthen a family. It is open banter where any topic can be brought up.  My topic was a bit unexpected.
     Starbucks has a wonderful array of coffee to choose from, but tonight I was just going to get a small, sorry tall, regular blonde coffee.  Unfortunately, I was told that the blonde coffee would have to be brewed since it was later in the evening if I was willing to wait. Wait? Is that a word we still use in America? It is doubtful anyone even knows how to spell patience. The young lady was asking me to wait, which I could not do without stealing time away from my daughter.  No, I would have to order something else.
     Then I saw the Sumatra coffee.  Sounded very exotic and intellectual. So I proudly stated that I would prefer a tall Sumatra. Then came the big question of the night. Would I prefer instead a Blue Sumatra for one dollar more?  These are tough things to answer if someone is caffeine deprived, which is probably why they asked me. My eyes rove over the large board above. Then I saw something about “clover blended coffee”.   I was a bit alarmed since mixing “clover” and living in Colorado leads me in a direction I didn’t want to go. But ask I must.
     “What is clover blended coffee?”   I learn that it is a process of making coffee by means of a reverse French press. I feel the little remaining caffeine in my system drip away.  I muse on this.  Does a reverse French press mean its German coffee? The whole process sounds kind of Benedict Arnold to me.   I believe this must be un-American, so I decide against it.
     But I am back to my original question.  Do I want Blue Sumatra? This is a really bad question because it forces me to own up to mine own ignorance. No father wants to show such weakness in front of his daughter. Then there is the matter of the extra dollar. Is the blue worth the extra money?  Can I taste the difference?  If I order this will my tongue turn blue?  What if I spill it on my shirt?  Will there be a big blue stain to match my blue jeans? Bigger question I think: Does the coffee look blue or black? If it is black how do I know there is blue in it? If it is blue is it really coffee?
     I have a headache now, so I stay with my Sumatra order, hold the blue. My daughter probably now believes I am being a cheapskate, but actually Iʼm just dazed.  As we are sitting on some sofa chairs, I am trying to explain the dilemma to her. Of course she is sipping some sort of a drink with a lot of vowels at the end of it. Frappuccino macchiato vanilla mocha grande (you get the idea). In fact, now that I think of it, everything in Starbucks ends in a vowel. A Vanna White kind of place where you can always buy a vowel.
She is not intimidated by the idea of blue coffee. She is not intimidated by the higher price, but then again she isn’t paying. She argues that I should have gone for the blue stuff although if she went on much longer she might get blue in the face by seeing my reaction.
     If I had just had the patience for a tall blonde. But that is a different story.

- Anonymous