A column about coffee? Who does that? Well, until now, I certainly had not, but I realize the subject is not as silly as some would think. Folks are serious about their coffee, which was confirmed for me even more last week. So depending on where you fall on the spectrum, you'll either find value in this article or wonder why I'm not writing about "really important" things going on, like the nonsense in a place called D. C. -- and then there are those who actually rely on coffee to be able to handle the nonsense in D.C. Either way, I'm serving up coffee right now, so pull up a chair and join me.
I don't drink coffee. I can't stand the smell, much less the taste. I've had a philosophy about coffee for many years: I believe most people drink it as a status symbol -- deeming it a sign of sophistication or social elitism or some such something. I think it makes people feel more adult than others, so they clasp that cup as if it were a lifeline, mingling with others whose hands are also attached to their cups.
Despite my abhorrence for coffee, the other day, I decided to have a little fun and try my hand at adulting, as well. I have coffee, creamer, a Keurig and K-Cups at home because of recent houseguests. I got this idea to have a cup of coffee. Don't even ask what I was thinking. I hadn't tried the stuff in more years than I can count. The result? I proved my theory correct. It is beyond nasty, and how anyone -- anyone at all -- could truly enjoy the taste is beyond me -- which leads me to believe no one truly enjoys the taste, or almost no one.
I brought up the subject on social media, expecting comments that I just hadn't tried the right kind of coffee yet, and I got those responses. I replied that I don't care what kind they offered, the stuff tasted nasty and smelled just as nasty.
Then came the assertions that I would enjoy it if I added a boatload of sugar or French vanilla creamer or something else to disguise the coffee-ness of coffee but still be a member of the Coffee-Drinkers Elite Club.
These solidified my theory, as did the plethora of responses from people stating they understood where I was coming from, that coffee is an acquired taste and it will grow on me if I just hang in there. Here's my point. Acquired taste? Really? Who in the world continues to drink something they find disgusting? Hangs in there until they like it? Determines that it's worth lion-taming their taste buds? Why? What's the payoff? Believe it or not, despite my numerous accusations through numerous years that most coffee drinkers no more like coffee than I do, which has garnered denials, some actually admitted it -- some outright saying it and others saying it without saying it: Keep drinking until you find what works because, well, that's what we do, right? We don't like carrots, so we smear something sweet all over it, keep taking a bite every day until it eventually tastes good, experiment with different brands of carrots -- do whatever is necessary to like those darn carrots. Again, who does that -- with anything but coffee, the emblem of emblems of social status?
It may seem odd, but I'm truly curious about what makes coffee drinkers tick. I imagine there's one or two who, somehow, actually like the taste, but I'm sticking with my theory: almost no one truly, naturally, fits into that category, but they'll drink it anyway because it makes them feel they've, you know, arrived.
I'm fascinated about what makes people tick. I especially like to hear what people think -- so if that causes me to make a hot topic out of a topic as seemingly frivolous as a hot beverage, so be it. I want to know: Where do you stand: Coffee drinker? Acquired the taste? Love it? Drink it to fit in? Please be honest: Does my coffee theory hold water with you?
Adrienne Ross is owner of Adrienne Ross Communications and a former Southeast Missourian editorial board member.
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