I’m not a regular coffee drinker. I reserve it for special occasions, like weekend mornings. A while back I got in the habit of picking up a McCafe before going out, but that’s about it. It makes me jittery, and strangely emotional.

Today I had my first cup of coffee at work. It was amazing. I hatched the plan on my way to work from Kezar Pub, where I’d had a couple of beers and a beer shower to celebrate Lando’s Goal:

I knew that, while I felt great upon arriving at work, the afternoon would be a bit of a struggle, so I decided I’d have a cup of coffee after lunch. I took my break around 1:45, and after eating my leftover dinner for lunch, headed to Tully’s. Tully’s is on the ground floor of the building next door, and part of the strangely arranged courtyard space that I stroll through on lunch. A tall latte cost me $2.50. I decided to keep the .50 change, thinking about the $10 I’d spent earlier to get in to Kezar. If I hadn’t spent that $10, I’d probably have tipped the barista. I don’t remember his name, but I do remember his shirt was sort of grimy. If I ever ran a restaurant or cafe, I would make darn sure my employees always wore clean shirts. And clean caps. Although caps most likely wouldn’t be allowed.

I put two sugars in – pouring them right on top of eachother and listening to their little clump of weightiness slowly tumble through the foam. I worked the foam around with the little wooden stick, gave it a cautious lick and then tossed it.

I headed back to work, gave a little finger wiggling wave to the “Hi” guy in the lobby, and then down the hall I went, balancing my coffee on top of my tupperware. I thought how terrible it would be if somebody popped out into the hallway and I spilled hot coffee all over them.

I got back to my brown-paper-shrouded desk feeling very excited about drinking my coffee and having a productive afternoon. Things went quickly. I felt sharp, and drank the whole cup in about 30 minutes. I’m not sure how this rates in terms of coffee-drinking pace, but I’d reckon it’s on the fast side. After a while, I went to the kitchen for some water. That’s when I got sort of emotional. I can’t recall exactly what I was thinking about, but I definitely felt very emotionally involved. It moved up through me in a wave, and I could feel it in my chest. It felt good, really. Very real and all-encompassing. I looked down at my shoes and poured cold water from the dispenser, and smiled to myself as I went back to work.

I’m quite sure it was the coffee.