This morning on the walk home from work, I decided to do something different. Against my best judgment and all reason, I decided to stop by Starbuck's for a cup of coffee. The reasoning behind this, though mainly because Brennan had stopped by work and was on his way over there, was that it is between my apartment and work, roughly halfway. This makes it extremely convenient, though as I later learned, was not so "convenient" after all.
Now, there are reasons I do not drink Starbucks, most notably because it tastes like burned celery. But, despite that, it has been a few years since I've had a cup of Starbuck's coffee, and I figured, why not. Well my friends, I found out "why not."
Brennan and I sat at the patio this morning at Starbucks, "enjoying" our cups of coffee, strained from beans obviously tortured to death by over-roasting, most likely over brimstone.
Judging by their "bitter" nature, I think these particular beans were elderly, and had spent the last bit of their lives in little bean rocking chairs on little bean patios of Southeast Asia's finest bean retirement communities. More than likely veterans of some terribly unjust bean war, and undoubtedly in their earlier lives, having to walk uphill both ways through 5 feet of snow just to get their little bean education. I never would have guessed it snowed that much in Sumatra. But enough back story.
After hanging out a bit, shooting the bull, and Brennan's usual ritual of defiling public restrooms in his own special way, we proceeded to walk home, he to his girlfriend, and I to my cat. I arrived and was greeted with a series of meows, as I always am, I continued to "enjoy" the coffee I was so desperately determined to get my $2.13 worth. Internet was down, so I did my no internet ritual of watching the Today Show, which had a very interesting series of spots on an exercise program based on light saber duels. Though, that is a story for another time. My ritual of watching the Today Show kinda wavered so I read some Far Sides, as the later the hour of the Today Show, the lamer it gets, and then the second part of my ritual, Raechel Ray came on. Say what you want about me, that woman is some serious hot.
Sometime during all this, I decided I couldn't choke down any more of this noxious tar, and disposed of it in my sink. I've never heard stainless steel cry in horror before, but that could be the mild sleep deprivation. I also sometime decided, hey, a couple peanut butter and jelly sandwiches would be awesome. So I proceeded to fix a couple, and they were. I finished them off, finished watching TV, and proceeded to read Gary Larson's genius of a creation until somewhere round 12:30 or 1, which I deemed "bedtime."
Now, one must understand with my overnight schedule, the 5PM I am about to reference, is equivalent roughly to a normal person's 3am.
So at 5pm, on the 25th of February, in the Year of No Lord, Two Thousand and Swine, I awoke feeling quite warm (did i mention February?) and with a horrible gut feeling. Not as in an eminent sense of danger, or impending doom, but literally, a horrible feeling, in the gut. Now, in my almost 31 years on this planet, I have never gotten indigestion from a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Never. I also should note, this peanut butter is not affected by the recent salmonella scare. Although unpleasant, I do not have the urge to hang both ends over the toilet at the same time. What could have caused this? What could I possibly have done to deserve such a thing? Oh yeah, the coffee.
I drink coffee almost every day, many days up until bedtime. Never do I wake up with this sort of feeling. Never do I want to again. This leads me to one of 2 conclusions:
1. That Starbuck's is the work of the Devil, brewed with pure evil, sent to destroy us all.
2. While I slept, some alien creatures implanted a uterus and embryo of their spawn reminiscent of their prehistoric evolutionary ancestors, reminiscent of this planet's own, long since extinct, Velociraptor.
Or, and more likely, being a man of logic(granted, some may see it as twisted, or illogical altogether),
3. Starbucks has made a change for the worse, a feat I did not think possible, covered up by years of brainwashing, and, surprisingly enough, seeming to cover it all up with bells, whistles, and new and improved... Wait for it... Wait for it... Reasonable pricing! (At least on brew coffee) Most notably in this change, the before mentioned burned celery taste seems to have become something more along the lines of burned, moldy, rancid, festering brussel sprouts.
I leave it up to the reader to decide which option seems most feasible.
Roughly an hour after the first tinges of an alien about to burst forth from my stomach into a Vaudeville style song and dance routine, the cockleburs in my stomach seem to have digested, and I hopefully will be able to get a little more sleep before my shift begins this evening.
I will conclude in saying, from now on, I'm coming home and brewing my own damn coffee. Screw convenience in its over-roasted ass.
