This has been a slow, short week. Everyone seems to have the sniffles and the weather is being lame. While my day job workload wasn’t anything crazy, it just seemed to drag. Did some covert Christmas shopping for the fam. It irks my wife and I love it! Started building a sweet new workbench that I will hopefully have done this weekend. The house is still in some disarray from reorganizing for the new couch. The kiddos are finally knocked out, Kash is testing our brand new couch for sleepability (I made up that word, come at me). I am currently drinking some Knob Creek: small batch and jamming to Ross Patterson. It’s stronger than regular Knob Creek and just as tasty. This one is all about coffee. It started with a recent Facebook conversation about how Dunkin Donuts isn’t that great. It turned into my story of redemption.
The conversation started by myself and a great friend teaming up on the interwebs defending Dunkin Donuts and how they are better than Starbucks. I prefer the use of Styrofoam cups to paper, they are durable and keeps the coffee hot while not burning your hand. To those of you who say Styrofoam is bad for the environment, I say whatever. I’ll reuse a Dunkin Donuts cup at work for several days before tossing it. I have poured more coffee into that cup and it’s been hot 20-30 min later. Paper cups tend to start leaking and you have to put a sleeve on it so it doesn’t burn your hands. Then the sleeve gets stuck in your vehicle cup holder, the cup burns your hand, and then you get coffee all over your fresh new Armani suit (is that still a thing?). It’s just a terrible setup. And you know who uses paper cups? Starbucks (now known to me as the devil coffee shop).
I used to be a yuge fan of Starbucks. They are everywhere and had some sweet tasting drinks. As I matured into an adult, my dad and I would grab a cup from them and have thought-provoking conversations about life and politics. My ex-wife used to work for them and I would receive free coffee because of it. A pound a week. It was glorious. As time went on, I was introduced to Dunkin Donuts coffee. It was simple. I still supported the Starbucks brand though; I wasn’t going to betray my ex’s employer. Then I got divorced and my ties to Starbucks stopped there. I became lost in the coffee universe. I tried different kinds of coffee, from little mom and pops to corporate giants. I would still venture to Starbucks when in a pinch, but I did my best to try new things. I would buy whole bean and grind it myself. There is nothing like a fresh ground cup of joe. There are a few hipster coffee joints here in the Hampton Roads area, but they didn’t do it for me. I think it had something to do with the hipsters, but who knows.
Now I might turn a little fanboy here. I’m about to reference some shit like I was paid to do it, but it’s part of my story.
While in Bahrain, I was turned onto a YouTube video titled “How to be an Operator.” The community I am a part of had a lot of satire attached to that word (operator) and I found the video hilarious. I began to follow the shenanigans of Mbest11x. His videos kept me entertained while deployed and after I came home. A video then came across my computer about “hipsterbucks.” I died. It was my introduction to Black Rifle Coffee Company. While I didn’t immediately start ordering their coffee, I started following them. I continued to buy coffee from the local Kroger or receive some Dead River Coffee from my mother when she went to the UP (Upper Peninsula) of Michigan. After my current wife and I settled into our routine and adjusted to having two littles, we subscribed to Black Rifle. It was probably one of the best decisions I have made as an adult. The coffee is delicious, is delivered the same time each month, unless I neglect update my payment info after getting a new debit card (that was a rough week). My mustache thickened, the hair on my chest went full 70’s and I understood the meaning of life after that first sip. My favorite flavor from the subscription is either AK or Murdered Out. The wife likes Murdered Out. Black Rifle is always there for you. A new co-worker saved the day with some after the community Folgers ran out. He pulled out some Silencer Smooth, loaded it up and the day could resume. If that hadn’t happened I may have lost focus and began thinking Occupy Democrats is gospel (they blocked me). Using the subscription also saves me from forgetting to buy it, big plus. If you aren’t easily offended and have a sense of humor, I recommend checking them out. If you don’t, you may end up in the hospital from snowflakeaphoria, the sickness of being a weak-minded little girl who lets things like words hurt them.
How I drink my coffee has evolved and simplified over time.
“I like my coffee like I like my women, black and strong.” Some guy named Paul Howell said. I looked him up, but my searching skills didn’t find much. If anyone knows anything about that guy, please let me know (it’s keeping me up at night). I also like my coffee that way (I may have dated a black woman once as well). It’s true and honest. Cream and sugar just mask coffee’s true form, a glorious taste of America and all her freedom. Now don’t get me wrong, I have used cream and sugar before, but that was when I was a young coffee drinker. Just explore it without, you may be surprised. It’s like going from an underage drinker to an adult who can go to bars. You start with Boone’s Farm and Smirnoff and graduate to beer. Then as you age you find yourself drinking more liquor (at least I have). I have recently been using a French press on the weekends. A whole new level of taste and exquisiteness comes with it.
Minus the winning of the American Revolution, drinking coffee is the biggest F-U America gave to Great Britain. (Boston Tea Party anyone?) It is as American as baseball, shooting guns, and apple pie. It is part of our morning routines, used as an icebreaker for your office crush, and helps us burn the midnight oil. It fueled the building of the greatest country this world has ever known, America. That is something to be proud of. As I continue on this adventure called life (cliché much?), coffee will be at my side, there for me. Will it be there for you?
Do work, be rad