Coffee Appeal

There's no substitute for black coffee. Be it a lovely Saturday morning when you wake up with the sheets stuck in your confident rear or a Friday afternoon while you wait for the clock to chime the five o’clock tune. Don’t’ even start with the donuts. The passage of time can sometimes slow down to a crawl especially when the stuff that you’re presently so deftly engaged in, depends on the expert performance of a flawless dual processor based work station working in perfect symphony with four gigs of adrenaline whipping RAM. Trouble is we’re running Windows which in my opinion is more unstable than a plate of beans negotiating escape from a cow’s digestive system. Thank you, Black Adder. And we haven’t even began bitching about the program at the forefront of it all full of so many bugs it’d make any entomologist froth at the mouth and salivate like an overturned beer keg.

Busy is good. In fact, if my mouse glides furiously over gently formed ravines off of drawing sheets with its catatonic infra red optic eye, I think it’s better than sitting with one’s Jolly Roger parked slightly to the left. But sometimes, there arise conditions so brutal that every click of the left button traces hollow thoughts in your mind fuelled by the inertness of how slow progress has been. It’s called ‘the wait’. That’s when coffee comes in handy. Black coffee; drink of the champions, beverage of the triumphant and the overtly wired! So, I went into the kitchen poured and myself a cup of this hot, seductive, deliciously sexy beverage. As the smoky liquid exited the pot, wisps of steam began to plume into orbit as I briefly fantasized about eating linguini tossed in clam sauce for dinner. The coffee mug filled to the brim, I staggered out of the kitchen with an expression of hope that basically compensated all that wait time. Life turned to slow motion as I trotted each step out of the eatery on my incredible journey back to the desk. ‘This is how he must’ve felt when he first bit into that crispy loaf of toast bejeweled with a little cube of butter melting on its downward trickle on a barren terrain of crumbs.’ I’m alluding to the divine experience of the devout English gentleman who accidentally invented the toaster while trying to tune his radio.

Coffee does things to one. The transition from a snug pile of lazy moments to a perked up hound dog waiting for some debate action with his tail wagging vigorously as if to ward off satellites, is anything but long. As the beverage faded into my mouth and the caffeine swirled its narcotic path into my veins, I began feeling rejuvenated. A thousand light bulbs lit up the left side of my brain as though proudly displaying the sign for a new Givenchy perfume with a Bassett hound thrown in for sex appeal. Life is so good! Especially when I can look forward to making a trip to my favorite Vons, reaching with my strong arms into the hollowness of sub zero temperature laden freezer and gently picking up my TV dinner as though plucking a Himalayan Musk Rose…

(white cup of black coffee: http://www.rickhurst.co.uk/)