sounds filthy, doesn’t it?
Alas, there’s nothing sexy about it. Well, unless you’re a java junkie like me. See, very recently, I actually wore out my coffeemaker’s on/off/brew switch.
I take my coffee very, very seriously. I need it to function in the morning. And the afternoon. And sometimes at night. Coffee is my treat, my indulgence, my companion through the day. So when my maker’s switch broke, I got out the ol’ screwdriver and used the tool as it was intended–jammed it into the hole where the switch would have gone. This worked for awhile, until Mr. Xandra just said, “Why don’t you just go buy a new coffeepot already?”
I didn’t answer him right away. A whole host of answers came to my mind–”Because this one’s ours,” “It’s still good,” and “But that would require shopping, which I loathe, and decision-making, which I suck at.” And yet, already I was picturing a new coffeepot–one with some widgets, fancy bits, and maybe a nicer, more gourmet-looking silhouette. At the very least, I needed one with an industrial, heavy-duty switch.
Well, yesterday, I finally broke down and retired old wheezy to the front porch (okay, I will not make the obligatory hillbilly joke about keeping major appliances on the front porch - I put things out on the front porch because the disabled vets association comes by once a month and takes away used household items for resale/salvage to fund their charity work). I went to the store, braving the Sunday shoppers, and bought myself a fine-lookin’ Cuisinart Coffee On Demand. Because when it comes to my coffee, I am a demanding bitch.
I love the stupid thing. It’s got this little fuel-gauge looking thing on the front that tells you how much coffee’s in the reservoir, and a lever that dispenses the coffee by the cup. So there’s no carafe to drop on the floor and shatter, to run cold water into before letting it cool down, making it explode in a spectacularly webbed network of cracks and shards that destroy your garbage disposal with the damage of a thousand tiny knives.
But it’s a virgin.
Anyone who sucks down the joe on a regular basis can tell you that one of the secret ingredients of brewing a great pot of coffee is the sludge on the bottom of the old one. The aging and flavoring of a good, well used coffeepot just adds something to the coffee, some subtle, underlying…soul to it. Even if you clean the thing out on a regular basis, there’s still some…astral coffee, I guess, left in the pot, that contributes to its coffic descendants.
So this morning, I’m drinking clean coffee for the first time in almost ten years (did I mention that Mr. Xandra and I received our coffeemaker as a wedding present?), and it feels odd.
Only one solution for it, I suppose. I’m just going to have to drink more coffee and break in this virgin.
Eveline, I envy you your chocolate. I once had the chance to work on a consulting project in Belgium, but had to turn it down because right when the project was due, I’d be due, myself, and flight attendants get nervous when they see very pregnant women boarding airplanes for transatlantic flights. 