Coffee Review #8

by: Dave King

Prelude: I was told by certain people with eyes that read things before things are presented to the masses that I had to prepare a coffee review to end all coffee reviews for this last issue.  What does that even mean: A coffee review to end all coffee reviews?  Does that mean that if this ends up being the best coffee shop review ever written, that nobody will ever write another coffee shop review throughout the course of history?  Does it sound right that these aforementioned “people with eyes” should put that sort of pressure on my shoulders?  This is bigger than back when the writers of Seinfeld had to write a final episode.  Anyhow, on to some useless jabbering.

Location: My dorm room.  Because this location is so close to home for me, I will need to keep an air of detachment while doing this review; I wouldn’t want to be overly subjective.  As any thinking person knows, the only way for me to do this is to give myself a pseudonym and pretend that I am not actually me.  Henceforth, at least for the rest of this review, I will be Garcon DeVache.

Today’s Blend: Upon arrival at this location, I – the immutable Garcon DeVache – ordered the Kenya AA.  The blend itself harbors a distinct strength and a pleasing flavor.  It doesn’t sit too heavy on the tongue or leave an undesirably acidic aftertaste.
   However, I will lay out one point of criticism.  Although the flavor is pleasing, I do wish I could taste more of it.  Whoever made this coffee must have filtered it through a wool sock.  Perhaps I should order such a blend black.
   Speaking of black liquids, I saw some inkblots the other day.  You know, the sort of inkblots that some therapists get their clients to look at and tell them what they see.  Does anyone else feel that there’s an international conspiracy behind these things?  Whenever I tell someone what I see in an inkblot, I find that nearly everyone else guessed something else.  One that I looked at looked like a banana on a stick in a tent.  Seriously.  Then I found out that everyone else in the civilized world said it looked like a woman in a corset.  I swear, it’s all about sex with these people…

Atmosphere: This room – that’s what this is, a coffee room – looks like it was decorated by a disorganized yuppie wannabe.  His sense of artistic design would have to be considered slightly sub-par for a drunken ring-tailed lemur.  I mean, who actually hangs an abstract Lawren Harris painting on their wall?  They keep playing jazz music in this place, too.  How can anyone think with this stuff in the background?  I’m glad I don’t have to live here.

Service: I’ve been in here for at least a good hour and nobody’s come in to serve me; I had to pour my own coffee.  Whenever the barista on duty shoes up, I am going to glare at him, with my very, very angry yuppie scowl.  Unless, of course, the barista is female.  Then I’ll smile, leave a five dollar tip and hope she gives me her number.  Speaking of which, has anyone seen the cereal boxes that come with a free movie pass in them?  I bought a box of Oatmeal Crisp a few weeks ago that had one of these passes in it.  Well, the movie pass is actually part of the cereal box.  You eat your cereal, cut out the pass, and go to see a movie.  What a wonderful way to ensure that you will not get a date with the girl at the box office (or whatever it’s called) at the theatre.  There are few better ways to not get this girl’s number than to walk up to her and say, “I’d like one for Ninja Turtles.  Oh, and I brought you a souvenir from my breakfast cereal.”  After this brief encounter with me, the three primary things she knows about me are that I’m cheap, I’m into Ninja Turtles, and that I eat Oatmeal Crisp.  Baby, oh baby, what turn-ons!

Suggested Reading: I’ve got none.  Do yourself a favor: Find a book that you’d like to read – a truly good book – and start reading, whether it’s at a coffee shop or wherever.  I’ve got a few books I’d like to get into this summer.  I’d like to get in The Brothers Karamazov by Dostoevsky, Labyrinthine by Leslie-Anne Bourne, and Hard Times by Dickens, among others.  What about you?

Rating: Overrated