The Beginning

I actually don’t like coffee all that much. I didn’t start drinking it until I was in my mid-20’s, about the same time I started smoking pot. In the early 90’s I moved back to the Seattle area from Northern California, a place in the early 90’s where the coffee craze hadn’t really hit yet. Meth was the stimulant of choice in those parts.

So, when I moved back to Seattle places like Starbucks and latte stands were the norm. The first time I ever tried a fancy coffee I was with a friend who was a connoisseur of sorts. Not wanting to let on that his order may as well have been in a foreign language for all I understood of it, I told the barista I’d have the same. 
Little did I know my friend had just ordered a triple shot grande mocha. It was a sunny spring day, so we sat in a nearby park drinking our caffeine milkshakes. Having no idea what it was I sipped it through the straw roughly at the same pace he did.

Ten minutes later I thought I was having a heart attack. I was sweating profusely, my heart was pounding like a Public Enemy concert, and I was feeling light-headed. Still not wanting to let on to my friend that I was most likely going to die of a massive coronary explosion I said I had to use the bathroom and snuck off to find a garbage can. I dumped what was left into a dumpster and swore I’d never drink one again.

Since then, I have learned to drink coffee in moderation. Though I don’t like the taste that much, I usually try and drown the bitterness with cinnamon and honey, I do like the small bump the caffeine gives me when I’m writing and trying to focus. Two cups of coffee, a few hours in a cafe, and some good headphones and soft music are a great way for me to be really productive.