Honestly, I have enough vices. I didn’t need another. This is why I didn’t drink coffee. That and the fact I didn’t really like a cup full of bitterness every morning, thank you very much. But a few years ago my wife asked if I wanted a sip of her Mocha Frappuccino Double Blended with Whipped Cream from Starbucks. Like Adam persuaded by his feminine partner, I too tasted of the forbidden thing.
It was awesome. It tasted nothing like coffee, not really. It was more like a chocolate shake than cup of joe. And thus began my love affair with the blended beast.
I quickly learned that it was only a small step from blended mocha to hot mocha. I felt myself slipping down the proverbial slippery slope into the intensely dark world of Juan Valdez.
“Friends” didn’t help. I came to realize many of my closest friends were taking a cup with dinner or starting their morning with Folgers and Maxwell House. I guess it’s true. You become like those you hang with. I too often found myself ordering the occasional cappuccino with dessert or latte late at night.
Now I sit here in Starbucks with a tall, medium roast nearly empty. What have I become? I have already asked Heather for a Keurig for Christmas. I know I’m only a few steps from seeking our a cup of Civet coffee. I never thought this could happen. I’m disgusting! Don’t look at me.
This post is meant to be a place of communal coffee therapy. If you too are a bit of a java junkie, let me know about your story below. What is your favorite brand, blend, or brew? Comment below: