|Let's talk about something no one wants to talk about...Crimes against Coffee.|
In my morning rush to get my caffeine fix, I may tend to be a little rough with my coffee pot-especially the top with the crystal peep hole where you can see the coffee popping up and making that soft percolating noise that sends excitement through my body in anticipation of my first sip. The other day, I was getting the pot ready when I noticed that part of the top was wiggly.
Dammit! Another one bites the dust! Stupid cheap parts made in China! (I'm sure it has nothing to do with the fact that I yank that sucker off with the might of a gorilla).
I ignored the warning of a possible future malfunction and made the coffee anyway. It came out fine, no problems. The next day, it was a little more wiggly, and again, my addiction led to poor choices. I chose to percolate once again and ignore the fact that my pot had finally suffered enough abuse at my hand. It was planning its revenge. Quietly percolating, and plotting at the same time.
Let's take a side step here and discuss the one thing I hate about percolators. There is no auto-brew timer. This means one has to actually wake up, go make the coffee and...gasp...wait. No emotional Folger's commercials are played out here where I actually smell the fresh brewing coffee while I'm still in bed and take a long, dramatic stretch and smile in excitement of waking up to Folgers in my cup. No. I have to trip down the stairs, fumble through the Lazy Susan, and then - get this - I'm expected to accurately count scoops to get it ready to go. Gawd these people want so much from me!
So a few days ago, I made my morning pilgrimage to the coffee pot, prepared it successfully and went back upstairs to get ready for the day ahead. I came back down just a few minutes later to see if it was ready yet and saw my very own coffee geyser exploding in my kitchen. Hot...steamy...semi-brewed coffee blowing out of the spot where the wiggly crystal top once lived atop of her stainless steel castle. The coffee continued to spew with force - covering my kitchen cabinets, counter tops, and floor with coffee.
|Another one bites the dust.|
As I was cleaning, a flood of memories came back to me of coffee messes of mornings' past that I endured. So many relationships with other coffeemakers, like bad old boyfriends you never forget. Mr. Coffee was one of them. What an asshole that coffee pot was. I made more coffee errors during my sleep deprived newborn baby days with that thing than you can imagine. Once I even scooped formula in it instead of coffee. He was very unforgiving for that mistake. Then there was the time I had the Cuisinart with the timer I talked about earlier - only I forgot to put the carafe under it so I woke up to a flood of coffee on my floor instead. What? I left it right next to the coffeemaker - didn't it have the sense to will it over to the hot burner where it belonged? For the record, I did cry that day. I also recall grabbing the glass coffee carafe too hastily one morning and smashing the glass into a thousand little pieces before I had my first cup. Maybe I am a coffee pot abuser. I have committed too many crimes against coffeemakers.
|How are we supposed to function if we haven't had our coffee yet? It's not our fault!|
|Lazy. But I totally get her complaint.|
There were no percolators left.
The saleswoman asked if she could help me find something.
Please tell me you have a percolator in stock? (panicking)
She scoffed and answered, "yeahhh, nooo...we are not carrying those anymore - there's just no demand for them"
I'll show you demand!
I choked back the tears as I thought about having to order one online and WAIT for it to ship.
"Could I interest you in a Keurig??"
I left skid marks.
I DON'T WANT A KEURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRIGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!
Until next time, it's time to stand up against pot abuse...
Let's get it percolatin' while we're waitin'...
Cheers and Love,