Hot Cuppa Joe

2.4.2015


It's cold in Chicago.  Really, really cold.

The pictures I see online in social media and on TV during national coverage of Blackhawks games show a frozen Lake Michigan, an icy Chicago River, plumes of steam billowing out of every rooftop and generally frozen-looking, well-bundled people.  I see these images and can hardly believe I endured eight Chicago winters.  But I did.

Of the several side-splitting anecdotes I could write about, the recent news about coffee and its health benefits for people who drink about a pot a day (which Linkey Loo Robot and I certainly do) got me thinking about sad tale of coffee on an absolutely frigid Chicago morning.

It was a Friday morning in December, a few weeks before Christmas.  In keeping with tradition, a proto-TNSC had met the night before and the revelry was great, as a holiday and time off were rapidly approaching.  And, y'know, it was Thursday.

I had been served several drinks in dirty glasses the night before, and I felt terrible that morning:  I had a screaming headache and there were several times I was sure I was going to puke on the bus and my fellow passengers.  I actually got off the bus a stop early to try to use the cold to help me feel better.  It did because it was so harsh.  This was the kind of cold that froze your eyelashes together when you blinked.  No shit.

I reached my normal bus stop and the Koffee Kiosk beckoned me in.  I visited it often and the nice gal behind the counter knew me.  She said, "would you like to try my special Christmas blend this morning?  It's on the house!"  I said no thanks, just the biggest regular hot caffeinated coffee you have.  She pressed on.  "Are you sure?  It's my special blend and it's my treat!"  After a while of politely declining, her persistence won out.

"Okay, thanks." I said, accepting the giant paper cup that was so hot I could feel it through my gloved hand.

Outside I took the lid off to let it cool some, and the sub-zero temps obliged in a block or two.  I braced myself and took a sip.

...

It was syrupy sweet.  It probably had peppermint, holly, mistletoe and chimney soot oil in it.  "Christmassy" flavors all.  I spit it out and poured the rest out in the gutter and watched it violently steam for almost six seconds before it iced over.

I was sad and felt bad.  Then I went to work and drank a pot of food service coffee.
Tonight - The Homestead  (but you already knew that)


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!