I hate bad coffee. Can't stand it. I take it as a personal attack when someone serves me shitty coffee. Coffee is supposed to be this wonderful, hot, robust tincture that warms the body, calms the soul and kick starts the shit out of your brain in the morning.
Good coffee is a cure all. Nobody ever takes a sip of good coffee and says "well, this day is going to be all jacked up"! No. A sip of good coffee makes you think "this day is going to be just fine" or "this will help me make it through the day". Good coffee can changes moods, can be a conversation starter and even facilitate a good poop. Really, you can't go wrong with good coffee.
Bad coffee? If you serve bad coffee, you're an asshole. Plain and simple. And I hate the excuse of "I am not a coffee drinker, so I don't know.". You do know, and you're an asshole. If you don't know, you hire someone who does know. This isn't rocket science.
Here's a perfect example of what bad coffee can do to you. My little family was on a road trip. We'd been on the road a good long time so we decided it was time to find a room at a motel that had a pool for the kids and hopefully a continental breakfast. Before too long see a sign along the interstate that advertised "pool and free continental breakfast". It was just what we were looking for. We weren't familiar with the area, so we let it be known that this was a recon mission. If it looked decent, we were done driving for the night.
We drive into the parking lot and as it turns out, it looks to be a pretty nice place. We walk up to the desk and a pleasant looking individual welcomed us to their place. They had good rates, the pool looked awesome and the person behind the desk let it be known that they had a "real good breakfast". Cha-Ching! Were in!!!
After a decent nights rest, I am up at the butt crack of dawn. The wife begins to stir and says she will get the kids going and meet me down stairs. As I leave the room, I can smell what indeed smells like a real good breakfast, but I do not smell any coffee. I enter their dining area and they had eggs, sausage, bacon, toast, waffles, yogurt, cereal and fresh fruit. "Everyone can find something here to eat" I thought.
The only thing missing was coffee. There was a nice looking water dispenser, a hot water dispenser with numerous tea choices and milk, but no obvious coffee. I must have had a "what in the hell kind of a deal is this" look on my face when another pleasant employee asked," Sir, can I help you with something?". This woman looked as if she was running the breakfast show, so I knew I could direct this pointed, most important question to her. (You've seen people you know you can't ask a question too, right? This lady wasn't that person.) "Yes ma'am, do you guys have any coffee?". "Of course we do sir. It is right over there next to the tea." and she points me in the right direction. I get there and there is no sight of coffee anywhere. There were about 7-8 other people eating, reading the paper and watching the news. None of them had a cup of coffee.
I am looking all over the place and still no coffee. Yet another pleasant looking individual comes out of the back room with more bacon. This young man says, "Sir, can I help you?''. I'd been looking for the coffee for about 5 minutes. Not a long time by anyone's standards, but it was go time for coffee and the shit needed to happen soon. "Coffee?" , I ask. "Right there sir..." and the kid points at this tin box plugged into the wall. It had a cup of coffee on it, so I thought this had to be it. I hit and hold the button as per directions and fill my cup. I take one sip of this shit and the hair on the back of my neck stood straight out! No damned way was this shit coffee! I look into my coffee cup for the cat turd I expected to see floating in it. Nope, no cat turd so I being to go through all of the things that might be wrong with this stuff. It had to be reconstituted cat shit.
I am standing there with one eye brow higher than the other, brow furrowed with a "get your finger out of my ass look" and the first person I encountered that morning walked by, put her hands to her mouth and said, "Oh Lord.... is everything okay." I couldn't talk for a minute. If the look on my face didn't say it all, I don't know what else I could have said. I'm trying to scrape the taste off my tongue like a cat hair at the back of your throat. ''This is awful" I managed to say. "Is this even coffee?'' The lady told me, "Oh yes sir. It says so right on the bag." She opens the dispenser and shows me this foil looking back that has "coffee flavored beverage, with chicory". The first thing to come to my mind is, "what in the fuck is chicory?''. I gag a little and pour this shit down the sink. There is no way I am going to allow my wife to drink this shit. I know better than that.
I look out the window and see a gas station/mini mart outfit across the street. I make my way across the street and can smell COFFEE right off the bat. I pour 2 big cups and make my way to the cashier. "Will that be everything?" the clerk asked. "What in the fuck is chicory?" The lady laughed and said, "Oh, you stayed across the street last night, eh?" I nodded. "Chicory is a perennial herbaceous flowing plant that is often harvested to add to salads or it is baked, ground up and used as a replacement or additive to coffee." (Who would have known that I would have received that information from a mini-mart clerk in Nebraska?) "Chicory sucks, so what do I owe you?'' I paid the lady and got back across the street just in time to catch the wife with the kids getting ready to eat. I handed her COFFEE because I didn't want her to discover chicory.
As we sat there and ate, a couple about 10 years older sat just to my right. They each had a plate of fruit and waffles and a beverage. The man takes a sip of his and gags! "What in the hell is this?" he says, with the same perplexed look I must have had. "Chicory, sir. It's a perrenial...." I start to say when he cuts me off. "Is that coffee you are drinking?" I nod yes and point to the gas station. The gentleman gets up and walks that direction without a word to his wife or anyone. (I know the feeling.)
My wife was amazed that I knew what chicory was. When something this horrible happens to you, you tend to learn everything about the thing. You'll even ask a gas station clerk for verification.... I hate bad coffee, ans so should you.
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