Poisonous coffee

If you asked me what is my favourite poison, of course I’ll say coffee. Black coffee of course, from the moment when I go out of the fog of the sleep with the sudden cock-adodle-doo of an electronic rooster, coming from my phone. So, my steps lead me automatically to the kitchen, to put the expresso on. Then the computer. The moment when I put the coffe in the filter holder is one of the most perilous in the day. The powder has not to go in the sink, on the worktop or on the floor. And I have to keep the eyes open. But every day I succeed to put the most part in the filter holder. To put the holder under the espresso, to start it without forgetting the cup. Then the espresso machine roars. And I bring something to eat, too. Just if I think to do such a thing. During all this time, I’m in autopilot. Then, I begin to drink, and every thing comes in order. I remember the day, the hour, the weather, what I have to do during the day. Then the machine is on, and I can go to the bathroom.

But that’s the story of the first coffee in the day. My colleagues can’t count how much coffees I drink a day. They know I find excuses to drink once more. It’s so cold in my office ! I’m so thirsty, tired…. sometimes I go for drinking a glass of water and my hand goes direct to the mug. Hot water, Nescafé, iced water if I’m too in such a hurry ! I admit, at work I drink Nescafé. Because we have a filter machine. And we’re just two to use it. Sometimes.  I like too much coffee to drink a re-heated. And our microwave oven is awful, too. So, I drink instant one.

But I prefer of course real one, italian one. How I’m found of coffee ? I had a blog devoted to coffee, http://www.ipernity.com/home/lecafedelenny cause I was so disappointed when I travelled. Someticafé italien à Shigatsemes, I brought survival kits -you can translate by sticks- I dealed some of them in India. The coffee I drank in a restaurant was… so british. An idea of what can be awful coffee ? A tibetan one, even in an italian coffee pot.

The worst story of coffee in my life ? I was just 25 and I take holidays in Edinburgh, by friends of mine. I arrived at 23.00 I think, and the father of my friend – I knew him since I was 3- asked me if I would like to drink an hot beverage, coffee ? Of course, even if it was too late in the day ! The name od the coffee was Red Mountains. I remember it. They said me it was coffee. So I thought it was. It was a hot beverage… Nothing more to say about it. Of course we chattered. I had just lose weight cause I was in diet. And then, I said that the only thing I didn’t stopped was sugar in my coffee. Then the father of my friend remembered i didn’t put any sugar in the one he gave me. How to say than I didn’t really thought it was coffee but hot water couloured in brown ? I said something about it was good enough… and would have prefer to be very far from this living room.

And this evening, after writing, cause we are in a very fresh august, I’ll drink a hot coffee – but a decafeinated one- 🙂


C'est à vous !

Choisissez une méthode de connexion pour poster votre commentaire:

Logo WordPress.com

Vous commentez à l'aide de votre compte WordPress.com. Déconnexion / Changer )

Image Twitter

Vous commentez à l'aide de votre compte Twitter. Déconnexion / Changer )

Photo Facebook

Vous commentez à l'aide de votre compte Facebook. Déconnexion / Changer )

Photo Google+

Vous commentez à l'aide de votre compte Google+. Déconnexion / Changer )

Connexion à %s

%d blogueurs aiment cette page :