The Problem with Bad Coffee – Coffee Beans Required

The Little Known Truth About Bad Coffee – One Man’s Struggle Without Coffee Beans

I Need Coffee Beans
***DISCLAIMER*** This is not a coffee bean buying guide.

As a man in my extremely mid 20s I have become more and more reliant on my morning coffee. It is my saving grace, the light at the beginning of the tunnel, before all the terrible things that happen to make me look for its counterpart at the other end. Without it I don’t really function… at all. This has been an upward battle, with my dependence being sated by my trusty coffee machine…

My coffee machine broke! I would tell you the model and make but I feel that introducing you to her at this terrible point in her life would undermine how previously reliable she’s been to me, and trust me I have come to rely very heavily on her over the years. I will therefore be calling her, as I have nearly every morning, Geraldine. The reason behind this name is personal and private and to be honest makes me seem like a child (intriguing right?).Well, Geraldine said her final goodbye and I have spent the last week without her. In her final moments she spurted out a luke-warm, granulated cup of muck that was barely recognisable as coffee, which of course I drank out of solidarity, it was the least I could do.
Well this brings me to this morning, I woke up early feeling even less fresh than usual and turned to my new Geraldine Substitute, Geraldine Light, something the real Geraldine could have… oh you don’t know her, sorry. Well I the new version is not a new coffee machine, it is not a nice plunger, it is instant coffee! Now please, professionals, coffee connoisseurs and even pretentious band-wagonistas among you do not judge me. I am a man in mourning, I could not simply go out and replace my Geraldine, would you tell a grieving wife to ‘move on’ at the funeral? Well this is my first day without Jessie’s Roasting Company Signature Blend Coffee Beans, available online and in store, also served in several café’s across Perth served up by my darling Graldine, and the effects have been disastrous.

Rather than being gently brought into the world by the rich, full texture of my morning double espresso, I was dragged, kicking and screaming into morning monotony with a brown watery assault on the senses. The effects were disastrous. I managed to leave the house this morning without my laptop, and then again without my glasses, this of course led me to miss my bus. My mood at this point was so low that the inane shouting of schoolchildren caused me to turn my head and stare at one of them. This of course led the child (who at this point, I realised was at least 17 and about 6 foot 2) and 3 of his friends to ask that ever-leading question, “What?” I bravely, said “Nothing”, turned around and got back to staring out the window and being tired. This was not enough for the man (I have decided that to save face, he should be a man, albeit a man in school uniform) who on his way out clipped my head with his bag in what I can only assume was a passive aggressive assertion of dominance, well the final joke was on him because stood up, looked him in the eye and punched him straight in the face sending him flying off the bus in a… okay I didn’t do that, but I did give him quite a stern look.

Upon arriving at work, late, I realised I had of course forgotten my notes on the work I didn’t do last night and was not prepared for my 10 o’clock meeting because I had… forgotten. It is now lunchtime and having forgotten to make anything this morning I had to go out and buy some, but my card was declined so had to use my already overdue credit card. This of course annoyed the staff here (not at Jessie’s Café) who I am sure are spitting in my food and laughing at me typing away on my coffee stained laptop.

Now you may argue that that is not all down to the passing of Geraldine but down to my own lack of organisation, and you may be right, but I choose to blame terrible coffee!

Note: Geraldine was a large attendant at the sandwich shop I bought my lunch at on the way to school who would always have my sandwich pre-made with a coke before fixing my collar giving me a hug and telling me that one day I would make some girl very happy.

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