vodka : martini :: tofu : burger
"You never know how booty-holes gonna act under big lights."
Heard a good coffee rant lately? Me neither. Let’s have one, shall we?
I’ve actually cut back on my coffee. See, coffee has a rich tradition. The main reason that we drink coffee is that the English were greedy and the Americans were cheap. The English, back when they still screwed things up for us rather than leaving us to screw things up for ourselves, decided to gouge us a little more with an insane tax on tea. It is bad enough that our government taxes gasoline and liquor. Imagine if they taxed coffee. There would be people rioting in the streets. Which is damn near what happened when the English taxed tea. We dumped a lot of it in the bay (blamed the Indians) and then just stopped drinking it.
“Give me something as black as my heart and half as bitter!” they said, and we got coffee. Sweet, sweet coffee. But coffee does things to your body that you would be much better off doing with liquor and cigars. I mean, you only get to die once, so you have to ration out how you kill yourself. I like coffee because it gets me back to the “throw the bastards in the bay, to hell with the king and to hell with his taxes!” mentality that I love. Tea, on the other hand, has its own redeeming qualities. So I have replaced my afternoon coffee with twice as much afternoon tea.
Oh, the millions of indigenous peoples oppressed for tea. Your tears infuse every drop, and they are so, so sweet. Arrogant English Bastards (the purest, most sublime form of arrogant bastard, for which they should rightly be admired) fought the Dutch for centuries for the right to hold oppressive colonies all over the world to fuel a tea obsession. They trained the tea smugglers of the 18th century, who kept the tradition alive long enough to smuggle booze into America during prohibition, fuel the rise of the Mafia, and pass the tradition along to our current drug cartels.
But, as will all things, it is being subverted by hippies. First the Starbucks hippies corrupted coffee, and they are corrupting tea, too. They don’t carry a good brand like Bigelow or Twinnings at the drug store under our building, so I end up buying Tazo from Starbucks. Not only is it shit, but it is covered in hippie propaganda. The only saving grace is that hippies are smart enough to know when to stop and avoid me slaying them. They have all their cutesy names for their bullshit blends, like “Awake” and “Zen” and “Om” and “Horny” and “Calm”. But they don’t fuck with what I’m coming for. Earl Grey. He was a proper Victorian Bastard. He was the Victorian Era, some would say, with the Reform Act. He pissed off lots of chaps with that one, but he had such a nice tea that they didn’t kill him in a duel. And now, I can sit here and drink it and think of what it would have been like had I been born in Victorian England. And an aristocrat. And rich. And that they had proper toilets. Kinda like how Alex looks at the bible in A Clockwork Orange.
What am I saying? My people were Welsh and Irish. We would have gladly killed him for a farthing just for being English. I guess what I am trying to say, is that since I want my beverages to be based on the suffering of others and compatible with my personal general cussedness, tea will do just as well as coffee.
We just had a new coffee machine installed in our office! And three new dispensing pots. With level indicators on the front. That means that these morons no longer have an excuse for taking the last cup by saying, “I thought there was still a cup left.”
I think this is a good day for the coffee jihad. Better coffee through technology.
Why do people do whatever the absolutely laziest and crudest thing is? I’m talking about those stupid little caps on coffee cups. Everyone drinks Starbucks. I don’t even have a problem with that. I’ve come to accept it and have even joined the bunch, treating myself to a cappuccino once or twice a week.
You know what I do with that little cap as soon as I get back to my desk? I rip that bastard off. It is a travel lid. You use it when you are travelling. When you have traveled back to your desk, you are done with it. You know what you are saying when you sit in a meeting around a big, non-moving stable conference table? “Look at me! I’m a big retard! I have to drink from a sippie cup so I don’t spill my peppermint caramel chai rocky road soy latte with nutmeg sprinkled on top and extra whipped cream, because I can’t be trusted with a big-boy cup!”
That’s what it is, people. It is a sippie cup. You know what? I outgrew sippie cups 25 fucking years ago. I can handle a real cup of cappuccino, without all the goddamned candy and twigs and chocolate dust churned into it, and I can sit at my desk without spilling it in my lap. I sit across the table from these mouth-breathers and wonder if they would cry if I knocked their sippie cup over. They already cry if you use real moo-cow whole milk instead of their “soy milk”. There’s no such thing as soy milk, people. There are no titties on a soybean. You are drinking soy juice. Call it what it is.
I would bring my own cup to Starbucks and have them fill that, just so I would know that a sippie cup lid never touched my coffee, except that hippies would think that I was one of them trying to help the environment. I can’t get them to make it in my cup and then throw one away just so the environment doesn’t get off scot-free, because they won’t. I asked. (And I’m not asking again, because I want spit in my coffee less than I do soy milk.) And now they are already using holiday cups. It isn’t even Thanksgiving yet. Now I have to chose between having a red snowflake sippie cup, or having everyone think I am a hippie. Damned hippies ruin everything. They ruined the definition of “liberal” and now they are ruining coffee.
I am so very close to buying an espresso machine and keeping it in my office, where I can make real cappuccino with unfair-trade coffee stolen from poor migrant workers in South America while their wives are pistol whipped, brew it with over-Clinton-regulation amounts of arsenic in the water, and then filled with foamed unpasturized real-cow moo milk. In one of those cups from Mexico that leeches lead. Then I would have a real man’s cup of cappuccino. The only problem is that everyone would hang out in my office, because all the real men would be here, and all the women want to be around real men, and I would never get any work done. And real men get shit done.
The most amazing thing happened to me. I went into the breakroom to get some coffee (some of the coffee I just brewed because the pot was empty again) and the boss had just gone in ahead of me. What happened next was amazing.
He had the pot of Good Stuff in his hand, and asked, “are you coming for some of this?” I didn’t know how to handle it, but I figured the truth was better than a lie. This man was offering to let me get my coffee before he got his. Then he shocked me. He poured my coffee for me, before he took a cup.
I think that I have had a conversion. I think that we have found our spiritual leader. He That Would Forsake the Brew To Give Unto Others. I have a lot of work ahead of me. I need to gouge his eyes out, since we need a proper blind cleric. It isn’t going to be easy, though, because he was a Marine officer, and he’s still in pretty good shape.
I’ll need a cunning plan.
The coffee situation has been bad lately. I have been getting demoralized. I have begun to simply accept that when I go in the breakroom, if I had not made coffee in the last 15 minutes there wouldn’t be any. Today is different.
For the second time, I have gone into the breakroom and walked up on the Big Guy for our floor making coffee. Number 2 guy in a law firm that spans nine offices. I am shocked at how inspirational and motivating that one act is, and I’m not trying to be cute or funny. If there is anyone in the firm who has the stroke to say, “I shouldn’t waste my time making coffee” he is the one — and he doesn’t. When he empties the pot, he makes more coffee.
Why is it that these self important low-life assholes can’t do that? I think that is what makes this firm great. The top guys, the ones that have been here 30 years like him, make and pour thier own coffee. They get thier own dry cleaning. They treat every employee, from the mailroom up, like a professional. If they see a young attorney walking away from an empty pot, they call them on it and tell them that the staff is here to practice law, not make thier coffee. They bring them up right. (And they don’t do it in front of the staff. I get all that second hand.)
If you are a boss, make your own coffee. It has more of an effect on morale than you might think.