Last night, I went to visit Joy and, erm… see, I can’t keep up with this whole pseudonym thing any more. I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned her husband in passing once, but I’m not going to trawl through my archives in the vague hope of finding what I called him. He can be Max. Anyway, I called round to catch up with them.
”Would you like a cup of coffee?” asked Joy as I settled down in front of the fire. “I’d love one,” I said gratefully, having been in a bit of a rush and not had time to eat dinner, never mind have a shot of caffeine. Max lept nervously to his feet. “Well, come on then. You can make it.”
This seemed a little out of character. I looked blankly at his back as he left the room. “I’ve been reading your blog,” he added. “If you think I’m going to make you a cup of coffee after that, you’re sadly mistaken.” Oh dear. I had thought that he was one of the remaining small handful of my friends who wasn’t a Coffee Helps reader. Clearly, things have changed. Embarrassed, I followed him to the kitchen, where he brandished a jar of instant in front of me, somewhat defiantly. “This,” he announced firmly, “is our coffee.”
“Err, that’s really OK,” I said soothingly, torn between regret for my snobbery and my instinctive reaction to instant coffee. Max, however, was halfway into a cupboard by that point. “No, no,” he mumbled from inside the cupboard, “I realise this is unacceptable to you!”
He emerged triumphantly with a packet of Proper Coffee. “Max, honestly…” I said weakly, “the whole blog thing… it’s very tongue in cheek…”. Max was opening and closing cupboard doors with great force, apparently searching for something in which to actually brew the coffee. I could not conceal my alarm. “Do you know what you’re doing?” I asked nervously, as a disused cafetiere was produced from the back of a shelf somewhere. He did not.
Unfortunately, neither did I, having purchased a coffee machine at the earliest possible opportunity and thus being totally unfamiliar with these old-fashioned, traditional methods of caffeine preparation. “Honestly, I’ll just have instant,” I assured him. “I promise I won’t write about it.”
Joy was called upon to brew the coffee.
“This is far too weak for her!” panicked Max, coming into the living room as the two of us were contentedly drinking our coffee and chatting. “It’s fine!” I lied, convincingly. “Is it too weak?” asked Joy, anxiously. Max shook his head in annoyance. “It’ll be an explosion in a cup she’s after,” he tutted. I put my head in my hands.
I have the impression that people are soon going to stop inviting me into their homes.
Filed under: blogging, coffee, complaining, conversations, friends, worry
Hey there
should you come to visit me unfortunately you will have to bring your own little thermal mug of coffee because I only own Asda’s own brand instant coffee. This thought has probably left you lying on the floor in a heap but I really cant stand coffee so I only have it for anyone who visits and wont drink tea. Though how you could prefer coffee over tea is completely beyond me! 
The coffee to be found in my house is INSTANT.
But, better than that, it is a jar of instant I bought about 5 years ago. The contents of the jar are now black and have formed one mass.
If you were to visit us, I would poke the mass with a spoon in the vague hope of breaking it up into more managable portions before putting it into a mug and covering with boiling water.
I agree with Becs. Tea is much better than coffee, but I am most definatly not a tea snob. I remember once someone telling me to try coffee cause apparently it was very similiar to tea – yea right. The poor soul ended up being sprayed with coffee as I spat it out.
Bring your thermal beaker with you when you call.
Ha-that is quiet funny…reading friends blogs can be a dangerous thing! Being a coffee snob I do have my own beaker but if I know I am going to a non-coffee house I will down it before going in…and drink water!
You tea drinkers are such phillistines. Becs, I am reliably informed that the flavour of Asda instant coffee can be vastly improved by adding 2 parts ‘coffee’ to one part red diesel and adding just a hint of WD40.
Disclaimer- if you try this ad it has any adverse effects, tell the doctor that McBouncey recommended it. Leave my name out of it, right? I simply cannot afford to be associated with another such incident.
I believe his name was The Climber. I couldn’t ever forget that…not after the unfortunate Slemish incident last year…
I can’t still believe that people don’t stock good coffeee in their houses. Hails you are always welcome at our house unless the unfortunate day comes when we run out of coffee!!!!!!
I find myself so increasingly entertained by the conversations in the comments section that there’s really no need for my presence here at all any more.
Please. Continue.