Confessions of a Coffee Addict
The dark liquid that owns my soul
I am a self-proclaimed coffee addict. Yes, boys and girls, I drink coffee pretty much 24/7. Why? Because I can. And yes, I’m one of those weirdos that can drink coffee all day long and still go to bed and sleep all night.
However, I’m still in love with that first cup of the day. You know what I’m talking about. You can smell that first hint of that freshly brewed delight, floating through the air. The sound of the coffee maker as it perks out those drops of heavenly goodness. The feel of the steam curling up from the cup as you breathe in the essence of the dark liquid.
Unlike a majority of the population, I drink my coffee straight black. No sugar, no creamer, no nothing. Oh, I might add a little Irish Cream on occasion, but that’s only if I think I’ve earned myself a little reward for making it through another day.
I’ve been drinking coffee since I was about 7 years old. Maybe even younger than that. It was a staple in my grandmother’s house, who was also a verified coffee addict. She would drink coffee straight black day and night and I wanted to be just like her. I used to beg her to let me have a cup because I thought it looked “cool”.
Grandma tried to convince me that coffee wasn’t the food of the gods I believed it to be. She’d tell me it was too hot or bitter, anything to try and deter me from wanting a cup for myself. Then she thought she had the perfect plan. She agreed to let me have a cup, but I had to drink it the way she did. No sugar, no creamer. She was sure I’d gag and never want to drink it again. She was wrong.
I honestly don’t remember all the details of that first cup, but I do remember thinking I was finally a grown-up. I sat there with Grandma and drank my coffee at the kitchen table like I was someone. I also remember knowing that when I was done, I wanted more. She said “not right now” and knew she’d failed. But did she really?
Here it is, nearly 50 years later and I’m still a coffee addict. I don’t drink much as I can’t handle my booze, but I can drink anyone under the table if coffee’s involved. I don’t need illegal drugs to give me a boost, I get that from my coffee. I’ve never needed to hustle for my coffee fix. I’ve never done time for testing positive for caffeine. I have, however, overdosed on coffee and it’s not fun.
How does one OD on coffee? You drink so much that you end up with a horrible tummy ache that will NOT go away. You end up with a case of heartburn that feels as though a volcano has erupted in your chest. You end up eating a whole roll of antacids in hopes your bloated belly will return to normal. You pray the acid rising up in your throat doesn’t sear its way through your skin.
Eventually, your belly calms down and the burning in your chest fades away. You begin to feel normal again and all is right with the world. Then, your dumbass goes out and gets another cup of coffee.
Yes, my friends, I am a coffee addict. I’m not ashamed nor do I see myself checking into rehab any time soon. But with all the other addictions a person can attract in this world, I think I’m doing okay. Now if you’ll excuse me, I let this cup get cold and I need to refresh.
Cheers!
Thank you again Amy Marley for turning me onto this challenge. As you can tell, I’m not doing the prompts in order, but that’s okay. This post came from day 11 — First Cup of the Day. Check out Amy’s latest:
© Christine Graves 2020
