Coffee: Adult Hobbies I Wish I Had Part 6

This is the sixth post in a series about exploring hobbies that I don’t have, but I wish I did.  To read about the first hobby, beer, click here. To read about the second hobby, wine, click here.  To read about the third hobby, sports, click here.  To read about the fourth hobby, cars, click here.  To read about the fifth hobby, camping, click here.

You can’t always judge how bad something is based on the smell of a person’s breath after eating such a thing.  For instance, garlic breath is bad, but garlic is good; pickle breath is bad, but pickles are good.  I knew this when I tried to pursue my coffee hobby; it’s why I wasn’t instantly turned off.

At my place of business, the coffee pot is The Place to Be.  Although we’re not expected to take breaks during the day, getting up and getting a cup of coffee – and shooting the shit while you’re there – is acceptable.  As a matter of fact, in every place I’ve ever worked, including a high school and a mail-sorting plant, leaving your post to go fill up is a perfectly acceptable form of slacking off.  One might even say that it’s the cigarette break of the new millennium.

Not being a coffee drinker, I feel like I’ve missed out on a lot of fun and spontaneous things.  I missed the late Friday planning of the later Friday get-together.  I missed the Saturday golf games (see Part 3 as to why I probably would have declined the invite anyway).  I missed the in-depth conversations regarding why this job isn’t as fun or as efficient as it could be and I missed the ridiculous conversations regarding what was on TV last night.

Coffee is the only thing that makes people wait 30 minutes for something they could make more quickly at home.

A few months ago I ventured into this hobby with full force.  I wanted to be part of the conversations that apparently happened every 15-20 minutes.  I wanted to be included in the Friday night happening.  On a bigger scale I wanted to be part of the greater American society.  I wanted to go to a coffee shop and talk about why I loved frappe but hated cappuccinos.  I wanted to be able to discuss the difference between an iced mocha and a coffee-flavored milkshake.  I wanted to be able to sit at a Starbucks, eat a four-dollar muffin, drink my six-dollar coffee, and play on the internet.  I want wanted to say, “Don’t even talk to me before I’ve had my coffee” and laugh as everyone else laughs because we’re all addicted to the same drug and it’s hilarious.

To me, this is the grossest thing in the world.

After a few weeks, though, I couldn’t do it anymore.  I’m not a people-person, so talking to people every 15 minutes didn’t appeal to me.  I’m not a spendthrift, so buying something for $5 per serving at a coffee shop when I can get it at the grocery store for $0.03 per serving didn’t appeal to me.  I have an “eye thing” so having bloodshot eyes from caffeine overdose didn’t appeal to me.  Stopping whatever I’m doing to “get a fix” (as hilarious as it is) didn’t appeal to me either.

And the taste: it’s like drinking a rubber fire.

So I quit.  No more coffee breath.  No more coffee.  I returned to my natural 12-year-old instincts (which is what I’ve been trying to fight) and started drinking Coca-Cola again.  No more stinky breath, but my teeth still look “Bundy Gold”.

2 Responses

  1. I live for my coffee

  2. […] So I decided to take up drinking coffee (which, by the way, you may remember as an Adult Hobby I Wish I Had). […]

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