There's got to be a morning after...
AC? When you discover that you have run out of coffee at 5 am while you're standing in your jammies in the middle of your kitchen, and you still have a husband to get out the door to work before you have to be at your job at 6:30...well...not a lot of time to be waiting at the local Tim Horton's.
All was not lost. I could have had a vending machine coffee, but...ack....
So on that bleak morning, I dumped all the remaining coffee into the little brew cup, and I made the weakest cup of coffee ever. Still it was enough caffeine to get me where I needed to be. (Just barely...)
Andrew? Of course there was coffee for the next morning! What do you take me for? I would have walked 2 miles, in a blowing blizzard, up hill both ways to get coffee. I didn't need to, mind you. I just left work that night, drove to the local store and bought some on the way home. (But if it had been warranted, I'd have totally trudged through that blizzard).
Now, I did not go to my local Aldi's. I was tired, and I just wanted to get home, so I just stopped at the grocery store in the middle of town. I don't usually go there. Once when I went to buy some wine coolers on a hot day, I stood in line. They had warm wine coolers that you could buy for one price, while the ones from the cooler were higher priced. Since I was headed to camp, I didn't need them cold. The cashier rang me up at the higher price. I pointed out that I had got them from the rack. He pulled a bottle from the 4 pack and cupped it in his hand. "This is a cold one. I can tell," and he looked at me like a liar.
It's the principle of the thing, plus the fact that if you really want to fire me up, imply that I am dishonest. I'd gotten them all from the rack, so I refused to pay the higher price. I also complained to the manager on the way out. He agreed that the employee had behaved badly, and that he would be talked to, and I left knowing full well that it wasn't going to happen. So I boycott the place as much as possible.
However I needed coffee. And I was tired.
Which was how my work weary, sleep deprived self came to be standing in the middle of an entire aisle of coffee. As far as the eye could see (disclaimer: I am near sighted) there was coffee. Probably 50 different brands, each with their own blends and flavors (ick!) and strengths. The prices were as varied as the brands.
It's been a while since I've bought coffee anywhere but Aldi's and my choice is really no choice at all: Fair Trade German Roast. It's what I always get, and at this point, I don't even think about it. Even if I did though, the choices are confined to an endcap display, and once you weed out the k-cups and the flavored coffees, you are left with a pretty limited number of choices. (Fine by me.)
I wandered along that vast collection of coffees and began to winnow down those choices, and finally got things down to a manageable selection. One brand stood out. It was a familiar name, one that I've always associated with 'luxury'. I had never actually tried it before (at least as far as I knew). It was not nearly as expensive as I thought it would be. I grabbed the gold bag and headed to the checkout.
The next morning, I opened my bag of Swedish coffee and emptied it into the canister. It smelled nice, but I shuddered a little to read about the light citrus flavor with just a hint of caramel. What on earth had I done? My cup brewed. My milk frothed. I suspiciously took my first sip and...
...I didn't notice any real difference in my morning cup.