I am drinking the last cup of coffee in the house. This is including the ice coffee that I keep in the refrigerator for those days when it's so hot, if I were to sip a freshly brewed cup, my face would melt. My face doesn't look good melty, but I can't go without coffee. It's the last addiction standing now that I have forsaken all others...that sounds almost religious. It is. Because goddamn it, if I don't have coffee there will be hell to pay.
So why don't I just run to the store and get some? Because it would be much easier for you guys to just send espresso shots in the mail. This is beats the rubber chicken suggestion of from the other day by a long shot! Ok, ok, ok...I'm getting excited now. This is what you do, each of you send one coffee bean and I shall combine those beans to make one mighty elixir! A gumbo of caffeine! Only I don't have a grinder, so I'll have to chew them.
I haven't brought myself to get a new grinder since my old one died. It was one I'd grown up with, a Braun, and I woke up every morning from 8-12th grade to its roar in the kitchen. When my parents moved out and I bought the house, Braun stayed. It was part of the deal, like the walls and the plumbing - Braun wasn't going anywhere. And it continued to serve me well until a couple of years ago when it had a stroke and froze up. It was 22 years old by then, which is 87 in grinder years. I tried to fix it, but taking it to the vet probably wasn't a good idea.
"So," I said, petting its dispense cap as it lay on the examination table. "Is there anything you can do for him?"
The vet paused and then said, gravely, "No."
I began to weep. "I knew it, I guess I just didn't want to think it was true."
"Ma'am," he said. "It's a coffee grinder."
More crying. "I know."
"It's not alive."
I stood agape. "Well, not anymore it's not! Come on, Braun, we're going home."
I grabbed his plug and led him out of Captain Obvious's office. Honestly. No bedside manner.
Anyway, I get oddly attached to these things. And honestly, not to dishonour Braun's memory but I haven't avoided getting a new grinder out of loyalty but because I've gotten used to spooning grinds into the filter. Coffee brewing, to me, is all about ritual. Change one aspect of it, and it throws off my whole day.
So what am I going to do about tomorrow morning? I'm going to have to go to the store tonight. I will go to Walmart, pass by the kitchen appliances and think about Braun. Do they even make grinders that run for 22 years anymore? Was Braun made out of a jet engine?
OOH - ok, new idea. Just send me engine parts and I will build my own grinder. It'll have a propeller as a blade, chrome fixtures, white wall tires, and, instead of a plug, an ignition. This is going to be the hotrod of grinders. I shall call her Fuzzy Dice, and she's gonna run until my grandchildren are 87.
And in the spirit of throwing pieces and parts together, I offer you this:
Johnny Cash's "One Piece at a Time." You might have an aversion to country music, but just listen to it and when he mentions something about a car, just substitute it with "coffee grinder."