On Coffee

The perfect cup of coffee does not taste like coffee at all. It is filled with caramel, chocolate, and topped with whipped cream. It comes in a white paper cup with a hole in the black lid. The whipped cream oozes skillfully out of the hole delightfully tempting my taste buds.

On Friday mornings, my husband and I drive separately to the local coffee shop. It gives a chance to smoke a couple of cigarettes, enjoy the delicious goodness that is Kona coffee and most importantly, we get a chance to have a nice chat before heading off in our separate ways to face the day.

The smell inside the coffee shop is superb. The shop is not too bright too early. Occasionally there is a line although it is not so bad because everything smells so delicious. The baristas are pleasant but not overly cheery; they have started to use my first name. This is nice. There are brunette coffee beans for sale in candy machines that are lined against the chocolate colored wall. Animal paintings are for sale and surround coffee and teapots that are scattered on shelves.

Every so often, we will make coffee at home and I do not indulge in a cup during the workday. Fridays are an indulgence, a delicacy in our world of hurried breakfasts and Coca-Cola. This Friday morning ritual is a great reminder to take time out to enjoy the morning and a great cup of caffeinated splendor.