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Sitting in a coffee shop, cup of tea in hand, we would talk for hours bout philosophy before moving on through the streets of muncie. Hours of our young lives spent together, in the streets, discovering, exploring everywhere we could get ourselves to. Weekends were our times together, without a question. Now, now we have to plan, we have to arrange, things have changed. But I still love to go to coffee houses with im, have coffee and tea and other such things.
my favorite coffee memory is sitting in the booth at steak n shake with my best friend, downing one cup after another, smoking cigarettes, and talking. we must've emptied at least three caraffes and three packs by the time the night was over.
i accidentally poured coke into someone's coffee this weekend. i didn't know it was coffee, i thought it was a cup of coke, really. but then he got upset. so i told him it was still drinkable. i reached over, grabbed his cup, and gulped some down. it was freezing cold and sickly sweet. it felt nice on my tongue.
At least there's vanilla chai tea lattes.
Some of my fondest memories are associated with the taste of coffee. Sitting up all night with an assortment of different people at the Bitchin' Kitchen (when it was still around), writing, being creative, being stupid, being loud, being dorky, being "the only ones who really understood what was going on in the world."
At the time, I knew it would not last. My times with people have been fleeting. When I am in a social situation that I enjoy, or make a habit of because of mutual enjoyment, there is always a sense of melencholy for me because I know that none of it will last. I think to myself, "In a year, I will probably not know or hang out with any of these people." I try to soak up every moment, try to crystalize the look of someone's face when they laugh in my mind.
Maybe that's why when I meet my friends at an all-night coffee-consuming place, I go through so much coffee and so many cigarettes. Maybe I'm hoping that this magical drink that evokes so many memories will help new memories sink in and stay.
I've never been a coffee drinker. I don't really have much against coffee, but it's in the realm of substances that little kids don't naturally indulge in, and growing up, never suddenly seemed appealing. Coffee and tobacco, really. Which isn't to say that I didn't find myself in a quite grown-up life of drugs, alcohol, crime, and sexual deviance. My abstinence from coffee is hardly an outgrowth from a desire to stay pure, unspoiled, youthful, etc. I just always got my caffeine from Mountain Dew, which was always more readily available than coffee.
It's interesting how coffee has become a codeword for sex, in some contexts. Or at least intimate encounters. I've caught myself agreeing to go out for coffee with someone with absolutely no intention to drink coffee, just an understanding that they wanted an opportunity to engage in more intimate conversation with me, or go somewhere to physically express their feelings for me, and they just wanted a more tasteful way to put it.
Although the first kiss that I shared with my first girlfriend (who was a senior in my highschool while I was a sophomore) was flavored with the warm coffee that she had been drinking during the chilly walk to the Student Center. We had games to make up for how nervous and awkward we felt. One of them was truth or dare. We found a private corner of the building and traded a few obligatory easy truths. Then I asked her "Truth or dare?". She said dare. I waited for a moment, holding her in anticipation. I half-whispered "Kiss me".