Thursday, April 26, 2007

The Coffee Fiend

The management of my apartment building offers coffee every morning to residents. A coffee pot is set out on a table in the lobby from 5:00 AM until 10:00 AM on weekdays. I am addicted to coffee. Dark, black coffee. I can't start my day without a cup or two. On weekends I boil my own coffee in a small saucepan on my stove, like a rough-hewn pioneer on the frontier.

Every morning I watch the dissociated image of myself pour the coffee. As if in slow motion, I see every drop. When the cup is full, I turn and I set it in front of me on the coffee table in the apartment building lobby.

Some days I walk back to my apartment to my newspaper. I stare at the cup. The Fury rises from its silent state it screams bloody fucking murder it is stronger than it has ever been before. It screams you are mine Motherfucker. You are mine and you will always be mine. I own you, I control you and you will do what I tell you to do. You are mine and you will always be mine. You are mine, Motherfucker. I stare at the cup.

I put my hands on the rim of the cup. I put them on either side of the cup. They are not touching it, but they are close. Close enough so that when I decide, the cup will be within easy reach. I lean down. As my nose moves toward the strong, black brew, I can smell the aroma drifting from its shimmering surface. They enrage me. They make the Fury scream louder. They taunt me. They draw me closer.

I close my eyes. I stop moving when the tip of my nose hits the liquid. I close my mouth and I take a deep breath and it comes comes comes.

With all of its strength. The beautiful aroma of oblivion. The foul stench of Hell. It makes me shudder, shakes me. Inside and out it destroys me and fortifies me. Though it has not met my lips or entered my body, I can taste it. Like sweet strong charcoal mixed with bitter coffee grinds. I can fucking taste it.

Time stops. I do not move. I sit with the tip of my nose in the cup filled with coffee. I breathe. Deep thorough breaths. All the way in, all the way out. It ebbs when I inhale, ripples when I exhale. I can smell it and I can taste it and I can feel it. Inside and out.

The Fury screams pick it up pick it up pick it up. The Fury screams drink it drink it drink it. The Fury screams more more more more more. The Fury screams want need have to have can't live without I own you, Motherfucker, pick it up drink it give it to me or I will make you pay. More more more more more.

I open my eyes. I see the clear dark brown, the tip of my nose submerged, the rim of the cup. I start to slowly lift my head. I keep my eyes straight ahead, fixed and focused, they will not blink. The liquid appears in view, the rim of the cup appears.

The Fury screams bloody fucking murder. The dark brown liquid speaks. It says you are mine, Motherfucker. You are mine and you will always be mine. From this day forward I own you, I control you and you will do what I tell you to do. From this day forward, I make the fucking decisions. You are mine and you will always be mine. You are mine, Motherfucker.

I put the rim of the cup to my lips. I drink the coffee. The ritual is complete as I finish off my first cup of coffee for the morning.

1 comment:

Gina Marie said...

I found this post interesting. Does it bother you that the coffee has that kind of control over you? I, too, am addicted to coffee. But I look at my addiction in more of a humorous light. No one can ask me to do something functional before I have a cup of coffee, and usually, I don't like to get out of bed unless I know the coffee is brewed and waiting for me. (Although, I wil, if I must, make my own coffee.)

Don't let it control you. Enjoy it for what it is - it's coffee for christ's sake. It deserves to be enjoyed. :-)

oh - keep writing!