Black

[ehowton]

When I was a college student, my roommate took a look at me one morning and said, "I need to introduce you to coffee." I grew up in a household where neither of my parents drank it. He brings me into our efficiency kitchen, boils some water, adds a teaspoon of instant coffee, some sugar, and some Coffee-Mate creamer. He handed me the cup and life came into me in a way I had not previously experienced. He explained inexpensive coffee could be made negated by the quality of the creamer, and warned me to never cheap out on creamer. I was reborn that day, and became a fully qualified coffee drinker from that point forward.

I spent six years in tactical intelligence before being assigned to a strategic command, which broke me. I discovered I'm not very good with that; it bored me not having short-suspense mission directives in which to accomplish. This is also where I started drinking black coffee, and why.

The laid-back, lackadaisical attitude of the buttoned-up strategic intelligence crowd just wasn't fueled the same either as it turned out. They made what I called at the time, "married man" coffee. It was tepid...and weak, just like those who drank it. Getting tf out of strategic intelligence was the primary reason I left the United States Air Force. My talents would be better served elsewhere. Either way, relocation back to the states after nearly a decade overseas came with other challenges which vexed me during this transitory period, which as it would turn out, also concerned coffee. You see, my household goods had not yet arrived, and it had easily been a month without my coffee maker. Of all my friends, only one had a coffee maker at home, but did not have cream nor sugar, so I was forced to swallow the bitter, burning liquid raw and unadulterated. Black coffee assaulted all of my senses in an unfamiliar and unpleasant way. But at work, adding cream and sugar to the already diluted slightly coffee-flavored tea water they made was worse. Like drinking hot sweet cream, and not the good kind of cream - no, the kind purchased in bulk from retailers who lacked imagination and vibrancy in spirit both. Disappointing was an understatement. They say doing anything for 30-days is the key to change. Apparently, drinking black coffee is no different. By the time my household goods arrived, my excitement to make a strong cup of coffee adorned with quality powered creamer and sugar hit differently. I was sad of course; grieving what had sustained me for so long a time. But necessity is the mother of invention, and I've since embraced the dark side. The bitter. The nuance of flavors and regions which would otherwise be eradicated by the introduction of that which would dilute it.

I've been drinking my coffee black ever since.