Coffee

C is for coffee.

I think people who do not require coffee to stay sane, alert, and generally in a happy mental place, should be on a government watch list. They must be partly extra-terrestrial.

I think people who do not like the taste of coffee should be checked for taste buds.

I think people who are too obsessed with white teeth to drink coffee should be casually directed to Crest White Strips, and then be told to sack up.

I think people who warn me about the dangers of drinking coffee, a DRUG, should shut their mouths and mind their own business, because I do not say a word as they shove fast food down their throats at an alarming rate or alternately, drink tasteless organic tea by the gallon.

I think people who ask me how I can justify spending that much of my discretionary income on Caribou should look at their muffin-topping $200 jeans and also, taste my soy latte with a half shot of white chocolate before they think they know everything about money and the cost of true happiness.

I think baristas should be tipped more than bartenders- especially the ones who create leaves, hearts, and other shapes out of my latte froth. Has your bartender ever done anything with your beer foam other than splash it all over your newly washed shirt? Have they ever woken up at 5 AM to serve you? Do they ever, EVER, tell you to have a great day? (A: No, they're too busy hitting on the girl with DDs that saddled up to the bar after you.)

C is for coffee, my true love. I'm not sure where I'd be without it, other than crabbier and much less productive.