In the words of the old blues song—sing with me!—“I woke up this mawnin!”
But it took a while. I’m never fully awake until about midway through the second cup of coffee. The water and the grounds are set ready the night before. That way, all that needs to be done next morning is flip the switch and find a way to distract myself for a few minutes until the brew is through.
We’re never really ready, are we? Things are going along right on schedule, day in and day out, and then the rug is yanked.
This morning, after a reasonable interval, I moseyed back into the kitchen and found the coffee maker gasping and sputtering. There was but about an eighth of an inch of murky water in the pot. I closed my eyes and visualized Juan Valdez, patron saint of the caffeinated. Señor Valdez shook his head, lowered his lids, and led his donkey toward the horizon.
Mr. Coffee did not go gentle into that good—to the last drop—night.
KWICHHH…SCHNAAA! Mother of mercy…Is this the end of Rico?
VZSCKIZZ…BWIP! Oh happy dagger! This is thy sheath; there rust, and let me die.
WTFAKA-FAKA-FWEEEEW! Don’t touch that water! Ohhh! You cursed brat! Look what you’ve done! I’m melting! Melting! Oh, what a world!
HAJAH-HOO-FNEZZ-BISSH! I have been…and always will be…your friend. Live long…and prosper.
SKANITFF-BSHIZZ! Let us cross over the river, and rest under the shade of the trees.
WHOCK-MFFFF-KWA! Either that wallpaper goes or I do.
This could take a while. Not to be insensitive or anything, but I could sure use a cup of coffee.
HGGGSHHHH…NKIP…PKAHHHH! ♫ Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do. I’m half crazy…♪
Sanka Maria, Madre Mia, Mrs. Olsen.
Okay, what are the options? I could maybe afford a small cup from the convenience store. The credit card’s not quite maxed out, but there’s still the electric bill to take care of. Campfire coffee! Just boil a pan of water, dump in the grounds, and let them settle. Wait! There’s that one-cup coffee maker they gave us when we opened the checking account back in ‘87. Never saw much use in a one-cup-at-a-time… Please tell me we didn’t donate it to the ecumenical
garbage garage sale. Where is that thing?
That thing was still in the box, way in the back, behind the doo-dad collection. Whew!
Instructions? Nah, how complicated could it be? Toss those. Wash it? How dirty could it be? Forget that.
I set the one-cup thing on the counter, loaded it, and plugged it in.
HVNUZZZ-KWUCK-FOOOSHHH! Say hello to my little friend.
In times like these, we must ask ourselves some hard questions: Do I really need to take a shower before going to Wal-Mart?