This just in: The C.S.O. made our morning decaf and alerted me to its readiness. I naturally scampered to the kitchen and poured a cup. A few minutes later I returned for my second cup, and the following exchange ensued:
CSO: Back so soon?
FWP: I finished my first cup, so I’m here for my second.
CSO: (somewhat haughtily) I’m still drinking my first. I prefer to savor it sip by sip.
FWP: One of these days, I’m going to accompany you to the gas station when you need a fill-up.
FWP: Because when you put the pump nozzle into the inlet and squeeze the release lever, I’ll count off about three seconds and shout “Wait! Stop! Let it savor that first sip.”
CSO: Go away.
If you’ll pardon the choice of cliche: Your mileage may vary.
I’ve been drinking coffee since I was ten. (I stand 6’3″. It most likely didn’t stunt my growth, though one woman told me “Think of how tall you’d have been if you hadn’t drunk it.”) Starting when I was maybe 30, a few times a year I’d stop drinking it cold-turkey, to make sure I wasn’t addicted. No problem.
… Until I was in my mid-50s. Well, nuts. I don’t want to have any addictions. Should I just cut it off entirely, deal with the headache and malaise for a week, and learn to live without it?
Nah. I have at least a year’s supply on the shelf, in case of supply chain disruption. If there’s a problem and I can’t get it anymore, future-me can deal with the headache and malaise.
I can’t imagine life without coffee. It’s on a par with life without oxygen. If for some reason America’s coffee suppliers were to embargo us, the national economy would simply collapse. But I admit to alternating “regular” with decaf. High blood pressure will force that on you.
Coffee is at the center of one of the funniest tales I know: “Coffee Break,” by D. F. Jones. Let me know if you’d like a copy.