You know what’s crazy? I’ll tell you what’s crazy™
No Morning Coffee.
There’s an emptiness in my ritual, a fizzless beginning to a day that needs fizz.
No Coffee.
It’s a shock to the system.
It’s an empty gas tank, a closet without clothes, it’s a heart without love.
No coffee is like a dead car battery in the dead of winter.
It’s a cold morning, and you need something to crank it up.
Caffeine is the electric spark that ignites the day.
Without it?
Call the tow truck man because it’s going to be a rough start.
I’m standing in the kitchen, staring at my empty coffee pot.
It’s sad, like when Old Yeller dies.
I have a tear in my eye. I’m the Indian in the Don’t Litter Commercial.
How the hell did this happen?
Not having morning coffee is like not brushing your teeth after eating sour patch candy.
It’s like NOT putting under pants on before you climb a cactus.
It’s sad like a buffet of bacon at a Bar Mitzvah.
I went to the cupboard today like a bare chested Goldilocks and the cupboard was bare.
Somewhere baby bear was laughing his baby bear ass off.
Fool! “How you forget to have coffee in the house?”
I pulled open the cupboard door and like a scene from the shining, the emptiness exploded into my face like Jack Nicholson with a fire ax.
“Here’s Johnny!”
I’m startled and sad and step back.
I mutter aloud. “Where are you my sweet delectable coffee?” My little jumping bean of love?
Like a zombie looking for human to chew on, I mindlessly open the refrigerator.
I’m hoping that something inside will grab my attention, fulfill my need for speed.
Water? Nope.
Milk? Too White.
Beer? This ain’t college.
Man; I got nothing to replace the buzz I desire.
Whose to blame? I’m to blame.
How do you let life-sustaining sustenance disappear?
Would I forget to refill my heart medicine?
Would I let my heat be turned off in the winter?
Would I forget to breathe and bathe and belch?
It’s a part of the morning mix, the elixir of necessary elements.
I stare at the floor. It’s dusty. I hear the heat turn on. Suddenly a current of hot air pushes across the wood. I watch a dust bunny scurry by like a microscopic tumble weed.
I am jittery, shaky, in need of a fix.
Is this what a crack head feels like?
Is this what a sex addict in a straight jacket feels?
I am a sugar junkie trapped in a salt factory.
So I get in my car and do what any junkie would do.
I go to McDonald’s.
Welcome to McDonald’s may I help you?
“OMG please. Large coffee,” I say fumbling for quarters in the cup holder.
“Can I get you anything else?” the speaker board blares.
The garbled message fizzles in the cool air.
“Hot cakes and sausage, please. And did I mention large coffee?”
“You want another large coffee sir?”
“No,” I say.
Wait. maybe I do.
“OK, yes. 2 large coffees.”
“Drive to the next window please.”
I drive ahead and the woman hands me the tray.
The aroma of coffee is overwhelming.
The steam is like love floating in the cool air, hitting the ceiling of my SUV and filtering into my nose.
Delicious.
My taste buds salivate like a Niagra falls of anticipatory spit.
I pull to the side of the drive thru and open the lid. I cannot wait. I must have what I have been denied.
The fiery brew is bubbling, calling me.
“Hi big boy. Did ya miss me,” the steam hisses.
I put the java to my lips and sip.
I feel the caffeinated beans burn my gums, stain my teeth and punch my esophagus on the way in.
“All aboard bitches.”
Like a hit off the pipe, I close my eyes and dream about carburetted intoxication.
The burning liquid seeps into my pores, filling my blood stream, rushing to the pleasure center of my brain like a race car accelerating down the straight-a-way.
I take another sip and feel the jittery angst subside. I feel my nerve endings heal. I feel my eyes turn less red and my skin less clammy.
Hi I’m Andy.
And I’m an addict.
Now get out of my way world.
I’m re-energized, re-caffienated and ready to take no prisoners.
Good morning y’all.
Gulp.
No coffee?
Never again.
Life’s Crazy™