An open letter to coffee
Sunday, April 4, 2004 1:47 AM PST
Dear Coffee, I think it's time you and I had a talk. Actually, you don't have to say anything. Just sit there and steam like you do so well.
Coffee, you and I have known each other a long time, and you never let me down. OK, sometimes you do, like when you only appear to me as some syrupy, white chocolate-flavored dreck - and even then, I drink you anyway.
I began drinking you at the very flower of my youth - just after I discovered Mountain Dew was really disgusting, you came through.
You were always more popular than me, and have only become more so, and I have always accepted that. I appreciated the fact that you were never too cool to hang out with me in front of your new friends, like those wacky cousins you brought over from Europe. In fact, I grew to like them, and to this day correct people when they say "expresso" instead of "espresso."
You were there for me even when I started drinking chai or green tea in the mornings, in lieu of you. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate that.
That makes it hard to say what I need to say, Coffee: I need space.
It's not that I don't love you. It's that you've come to supplant other important things in my life. First I used you as a substitute for sleep. Then, on dark days, I used you as a substitute for sunshine. Food, entertainment, actual driving ability - yes, a few cups of you and I don't need any of those.
I also seem to be using you as a substitute for good judgment. For instance, when I've had a lot of coffee, and not a lot of sleep or food, I think writing open letters to inanimate objects - and publishing them - is a hilarious idea.
I know, I know - embarrassing for us both.
Christen McCurdy is the US editor of the Argus Observer. She can be reached at (541) 889-5387 or by e-mail, ChristenM@argusobserver.com.
