I look forward to coffee. It doesn't matter in what form. I look forward to the practice of making it or the practice of going out and buying it. Grinding, assembling the percolator, turning on the burner. Walking to the cafe. The light banter with the baristas. Filling up a cup at the gas station with the glass decanters. Pairing it with a donut dripping in glaze, or some jam and toast, a bagel and lox, a croissant. The names and orders shouted, the frenetic bustle of a midtown coffee shop, the quiet of a dusty cafe with cool aunt decor. An espresso before a night out (chic), a cup after a good dinner (ties it all together). The taste, the fact that it's such a widely acceptable drug that so many of us take. It's a small ritual we do to help us out a little bit. Get us ready, get us going.
