There is a difference between people who drink coffee, and people who do not. Now, I don't want to say we are better, but maybe we are more passionate. I would go as far as to say I do not trust those who do not enjoy, covet and need coffee in their lives, but that would mean not trusting my husband or mom. And I really like them so I'll let this coffee flaw slide.
The morning I was getting married, my bride brain woke me early. I poked Nat but he was not trying to wake up just yet. We had spent the night at the bed and breakfast and our friends Kurt and Kristi came up the night prior as well to get the party started early. Well, actually, Kristi and I had fallen asleep slightly fearful of the obvious ghost activity in the B&B while the boys did manly things like smoke cigars and drink dark liquor or something?
Anyway, I really wanted breakfast and coffee that morning, so I called my parents. They were absolutely partaking in the B&B breakfast, because really, is anything better? I text Kristi, and Kurt wasn't moving either so we joined my parents immediately.
We sat percolating with excitement as the staff picked me out as the bride for day and popped by our table to offer their congrats. (It might have had to do with my white "Bride" jumpsuit in a dining room of white table clothes, fine silver and china and otherwise appropriately dressed diners that gave me away.) When our waiter came to the table to take our drink order, he had a pot of coffee in hand.
"Coffee or tea?" he politely asked.
In unison, my Dad, Kristi and I immediately snatched our perfectly, proper mugs off the table, desperation in our eyes, hands quivering as we held out our empty cups waiting for him to fill them with that dark, smooth drug. "Coffee pleeeease, yes, coffee, good," we practically grunted, unable to form complete sentences with the goodness so close to being ours. The good man nodding knowingly as he quickly took care of the situation and my sweet mother calmly stated, "I'll have hot tea...whenever you get a chance," she added, giving her coffee crazed companions a look that said we had better start acting right.
It was at that moment when I really saw in action the difference between the ritual of coffee in the morning in comparison other beverages. Mom enjoys her tea. In a normal way. Nat likes Dr. Pepper every morning but he can function before he has it. Not us coffee kids though. Oh, no.
And it gets even stranger. Ok, well this is an extreme, but I am on an Ally McBeal kick, so I will leave you with this. Another extreme: