Alternatively, The Best Coffee

I went to a Starbucks and tried to order a bold drip. No dice. So the dude there said that he could make some thing poured-over, of course I said hells yeah fucker. Then the dude goes, which?

Which what? Which coffee? Fucking unreal. I could choose any coffee in the store, and have them brew that for me, of course I didn't choose. There was too many shits going through my head. Mind blowing. Something bold, at least as bold as my McMuffin and my flavored tortilla chips (backstory). I pay, and damn what do I find, some dude who knows his shit, gets some coffee beans from Kenya, grinds them up, and makes the cup of coffee. All that for some simple brewed coffee. The store was, pretty busy too. To expand the cue, all for one cup, all for one customer. So then the dude who knows his shit hand delivers this shit to me, and says, this shit is straight Kenyan. I give my respects.

Now right here, is were I have to pause this story. What if, after the whole process, the harvesting of the seeds, the plane trip over to freedomvile, the roasting of the raw seeds, the packaging of the beans, the opening of the bag, the grinding of the whole coffee beans, the education of the man who really knows his shit, the waiting, the pouring of pure water, the straining into a logo'ed cup, and delivery to me. What is after all of that, I take off the lid, and pour refined sugar, and non-dairy creamer into the cup. That would be a slap in the face, not just to the man who knows his shit, but to everyone who worked together to bring me this coffee.

At first slip, I know that this is different. Normally I would have a partially burnt tongue, but this was at the perfect temperature. I could actually taste the flavor from the beginning, and it was a wonderful taste, too bad I can't remember it because I am too high off of caffeine right now. Infinitely drinkable, from the start and what do you know, I was nearing the end of the cup. My experience was fantastic so far, but I was expecting at least some sort of coffee bean remnants on the bottom, nothing can be that great. But holy shit, I finished it, and saw nothing. Nothing. The bottom was as clean as it was, when it was a tree.

That was the best cup of coffee I have ever experienced. Not french pressed, not Turkish, not espresso, just a man who knows his shit pouring water over ground beans filtered into a cup.