From the lips of the most famous caffeine addict on television: “Coffee, the finest organic suspension ever devised” (Captain Catherine Janeway, Star Trek Voyager.)
What is it about a cup of mud that makes it so damned alluring. I often wondered why I love it so. From paper cups to travel mugs, I’ll take it anyway I can get it. But why?
Have you ever stopped to contemplate what it is about caffeine that draws us so closely to its bosom? I honestly never gave it too much of a ponder until one day I decided to forgo the “Joe”. I quite literally spent the day dragging my considerable asses across the linoleum, wondering where the five-alarm headache came from. Got myself home, and just poured a jar of instant coffee down my throat, sucked some hot water out of the kettle, and waited for Nirvana to arrive.
Addicted, hopelessly addicted.
It occurs to me that caffeine is probably more important than food in the grand scheme of things. Take, for instance, my ex-roommate, Grant. Now, Grant was the king of the Java-Junkies. Man could not function without it. It got so bad for him, he bought an espresso machine just so he could get it into his system that much quicker. In saying that, I must also add that there was a dramatic change in his demeanour when the stuff hit his system. He would literally start like Wall-E before his morning charge. Coherence and functional grey matter didn’t factor into his equation whatsoever. But as the drug coursed through his veins, he literally turned into a tornado with feet. It had to be seen to believed. His face would quickly snap into place, his posture would morph from its Pre-Cambrian state of evolution into Jim Carey’s stunt double. Amazingly, there was a 360 degree switch in his speeds…like an LP being played on 78. You couldn’t understand a thing he was grumbling before the coffee, and you struggled to process the speed in which he spoke and reacted afterwards.
Musta been how it was in Whitney’s house.
Well, in saying all that, I now find myself hooked on the junk as well. I’m literally non-functional without it. That, and the fact that I’m capable of things Charlie Manson would be so proud of without my fix, well, it goes without saying. I just need to keep the cuppa cuppa flowing.
So, is there a point where you can have too much coffee? That’s an interesting question. And my answer is hells no! I will take my coffee anyway I can get it. If it is chocolate covered, I’ll pack in the insulin. If it’s baked into a cake, I’ll be round for seconds. If it comes in a carafe meant for fifty people, I’ll bring a Big Gulp cup to the party. There just isn’t enough mud out there to keep my itch scratched. Whether it be 3 AM in the morning on a sleepless night, or offered at some free seminar, I’m there, salivating.
As a person that kicked nicotine, you’d think I would have a handle on it. I mean, how hard can giving up coffee be? Honestly, out of the two evils, and I was REAL addicted to the coffin nail, coffee would be the most arduous of the two. You see, with cigarettes, you get to stink up the world, your clothes, your kitty, what have you. Also, you have to sell internal organs these days to be able to support the habit. That, and smoking out in sub-zero weather just puts being a ciggy-butthead into simpler terms when it comes to giving it up. Of course, you do suffer when you quit them, but you’re never having to deal with the horrible headaches that go with the caffeine withdrawal. Also, no one looks at you with scorn when you’re drinking a cup inside a bus shelter.
So, whether it be french-pressed, steamed, boiled, perked, served up as a side, I am hopelessly in love with caffeine. And I’m afraid the love affair is mutual. It’s my reason for living some days, and allows others to live every day. For without my aromatic liquid goddess, I’d be doomed to a life behind bars for the sheer carnage I’d leave in my wake.