I am addicted to coffee, and I might as well admit it. Hello, my name is Mandy, and I have an addiction. I know what you may be thinking…So what – a lot of people like coffee. But let me tell you, if you drink 2-3 cups a day, you are not addicted. Addicted is drinking an entire pot on your own and wondering, Who drank all the coffee?? Addicted is carrying Folgers singles in your purse just in case you go somewhere where they don’t have coffee, and you have to heat water over an open flame to make some. I don’t like instant coffee, but a bag of instant crystals might as well be gold when you wake up one morning at your parents’ house and they say innocently, “Oh…we ran out last week, Sweetie.” What can I say? I like having my personal stash of crack (I mean, coffee) there when I need it. (Speaking of crack, don’t ever start eating chocolate covered espresso beans. There’s no going back to Raisinets.)
I used to work as a barista in a coffee shop, which is like putting an addict in charge of the meth supply, and it gave me lots of time to think about coffee and one of my other passions, the church. The different blends are about as diverse as my customers. In the middle of making cinnamon cappuccinos and dark roast lattes and coffee frappes and chai smoothies, I began to think, if Christianity is like coffee, the American choices are as vast as the selection in a five-star coffee shop. Some people know exactly what brand they want. Some have no clue. Some people seem to make it harder than it needs to be. (“I’d like one 20 oz. latte, with two shots regular espresso, one shot decaf, raspberry syrup with half the raspberry and soy milk steamed to 150.”) Some just want the traditional, small, black cup of Joe. Some want decaf so they can have the taste of coffee without the caffeine…which is another story entirely. Some want theirs loaded with sugar. It’s all coffee, served several different ways, with one express purpose – CAFFEINE.
One beloved beverage that has been waking people up every morning for centuries.
So the next time you’re drinking a cup, ask yourself, am I plain black, or a cinnamon creamer with an extra shot of espresso kind of gal? Hardcover hymnals in pews or twin jumbotrons with trifold programs? A rebel, who likes only tea? If you’re like me, you change the way you take your coffee from day to day. But I know some folks have been drinking black coffee with two sweeteners for fifty years.
Is there diverse psychology in the way people take their morning java? Maybe. Or maybe not.
Sometimes you just want caffeine. And sometimes it’s just fun to talk about coffee, tea and holy water.