Wake up and smell the coffee. It's morning in America, and I've gone back to black.
I've downed many cups of well-creamed coffee over years past, now I'm going back to black. To tell the truth, I like cream or half 'n' half in my coffee because it cools it down, and "warms" it up at the same time. Black is so cold, even when it is piping hot. The word foodies use is "mouth feel." I like the creamy mouth feel you get from fat. It's cozy.
So why am I going without cozy coffee? No reason. It just seemed like time to make a change. Can I do it? Yes, I can.
I'm also drinking more wine than vodka lately, although wine has such a soporific effect on me I refer to it as Winesta. Even my best friends are getting sick of that quip, though, so this might be the last time I use it. If only that were true.
Not that I drink all that much, or all that often. Still, I do drink, and thanks to my dad, I can drink with my foot on the brake. My friends drink, too, thank god. And also thank god, we all drink pretty well. None of us are sloppy drunks. We all know when to stop. We all know when not to drive. We rarely cry, or puke, or get lezzy on each other...even though we are all charter members of the Lesbian Sex Club. (Two rules: you can't be a lesbian, and you can't have sex with another member.) But what I like best is, we all know how to order. When the server comes to our table we're not all, "Hmmm...I can't decide...I don't know...I wonder if I'd like a Sidecar. What is a Sidecar? No. I'll have a Chardonnay. What's a good Chardonnay?"
If you want to be my friend, you have to order your booze ~you'll pardon the expression~ like a man. Short of "Scotch. Neat." which is a little TOO manly...unless of course you ARE a man...my women friends know what they want. And more important, what they drink doesn't embarrass me. Red wine works. Martini works. Tequila shot works. Even a Cadillac margarita, on the rocks, no salt works, but only if we are at Chili's or any such place that has a laminated, full-color photo flip chart drink menu on the table.
Just don't order a Cherry Vodka with Diet Lime Soda...also known as a Cherry Poppin' Daddy...UNLESS you are my beloved niece and her friend who are young enough and hip enough to order anything they want and not look dorky. They are still in their twenties. They are still experimenting. They are in the process of learning who they are, and they're doing it in style. On their 50th birthday, if they are still drinking Appletini's or wine spritzers I'll take them aside. For now, they're cool. Cool enough to drink coolers, that's how cool.
Back to my new black friend. I have to make a major exception for my black coffee switch: Irish coffee from The Buena Vista Cafe in San Francisco. The BV prepares a perfect "Irish" which is its nickname, but to be honest, you can hold up two fingers and nod and I can guarantee the waitress won't ponder your meaning. Always order two. The first one is really, really good, but the second one is even better. And no, you can't order the second one first. And need I say this? Never order seven...unless of course you are sitting at a table with three other people. I had seven once...I think...my recall of that night is hazy at best. About all I can remember is it was the first time I was in San Francisco and was not cold.
Sorry to be the big ol' Rule Maker, but so-help-me, if you order decaf, or no sugar, or no cream, I will reach through my blog window and choke the snot out of you. If you get the right waitress, your cocktail napkin will fly down onto your table top like a whirlybird. Tip her big time. She has to put up with tourists from the midwest who think 10% is a good tip, not realizing her apartment in SF is half the size of their mobile home, and three times their pad rental. She is the nicest mean lady you'll ever love to hate.
We live in a world that is changing. America always changes for the good. For some of us, this last election...you know, the one that began before the previous election and cost more than the war...was a victory, and a disappointing defeat for others. But the American socialscape and its ideals are like the American landscape and its mountains, plains and rivers...high, broad, and always flowing. Another way to view and accept change is this: imagine a world without it.
I take my coffee black, my martini dry, my tequila straight, and I take my politics on the rocks, no salt.