This past Saturday morning, I had my first coffee in, uh . . . I’m pretty sure I had my first coffee ever, past a sip and a grimace.
I don’t like the stuff. To quote Dave Kellett, I don’t drink coffee for the taste any more than I’d chew aspirin for the flavor. In a pinch, it’s strictly medicinal and then only measured in spoonfuls as needed.
Saturday, I was pinched. It had snowed overnight and the roads were just dicey enough that I didn’t stop to pick up my usual carbonated caffeine supply before driving to work. I figured I’d get a diet Pepsi from the vending machine in the staff room, forgetting that I’d given Jane the last of my change for a school fundraiser so she could wear her pink fedora, or buy a cookie, or play the ponies, or whatever.
I was just beginning to feel that pounding on the left side of my forehead, the drumming that means the withdrawal gnomes are about to appear over the hill, and I’d better do something before they fire up the bagpipes. And I remembered that this branch of the library has a café.
I dragged myself over there, squinted at the kid behind the counter and said, “What’s the biggest blast of caffeine you can do for a coffee hater?”
He blinked at me, glanced at the tea rack, and decided that Earl Grey wasn’t going to make a dent. “Maybe a mocha?” he said. “They’re sweet enough that you might not notice the aftertaste.”
So he made me a venti-plus, doubleshot* white chocolate mocha.
You guys . . .
You guys . . .
It was amazing.
There was a hint of bitterness, but not enough to bother me, the withdrawal gnomes accepted their tribute and vanished back into the recesses of Metaphorland, and clarity settled upon me like a Mentat taking his first spice hit of the morning.** My hands were warm, which is not normal, believe me.
The morning went by very, very quickly until lunch, when the drums started in again, along with the fifes of the Sugar Crash Brigade.
So I went out into the wilderness on a Diet Pepsi hunt and returned with a brace of 24-ouncers to tide me over.*** And also a sandwich.
Which was a good thing, as I had a looong afternoon, caffeine notwithstanding, followed by the first meeting of the Hollywood Hype Book and Movie Club, for which my friends and I read a book, see the movie (or television adaption), and compare/contrast/complain over desserts.^
This month, it was One for the Money by Janet Evanovich. Because some of you may want to see it, I will say only three non-spoilery things:
The individuals who designed and signed off on the cheesy, franchise-promoting, chick-flicky opening title sequence should be spanked and told sternly never to do it again. No, the Stephanie Plum books aren’t War and Peace, but this movie isn’t With Six You Get Eggroll, either. Sheesh.
Even if Snooki had a cameo in this movie—which one would be forgiven for anticipating from the “this is what middle America is expecting from a movie set in Jersey” opening sequence—seeing Jason O’Mara with his shirt off was well worth the admission price.
I liked the movie better than the book. This isn’t a slur on Janet Evanovich’s writing talent at all—the woman writes the witty, clever, sassy equivalent of crack—but I’ve got my reasons, which I’d be glad to debate once everyone has seen it.
I’m not sure how much of this opinion stems from being perhaps the tiniest bit over-caffeinated at the time—though I wasn’t to the point where the screen looked like I was trying to watch a 3D showing without my specs. Mr. O’Mara looked just fine . . .
But it is possible that I might have been speaking like the squirrel in Hoodwinked during the discussion afterward, though no one mentioned it. If so, I wasn’t the only one talking—the group didn’t leave the restaurant until past closing time, when every waiter in the place came by one at a time to ask us if we wanted anything else.
It was well past midnight before I settled down enough to sleep.
I’m gonna blame the mocha, delicious gateway drug that it is.
So, so worth it though.
What gets y’all through a long day? And should it disturb me that I already have a tag for “Caffeine”?
*I don’t drink the stuff, but the rock I live under ain’t big enough to keep out Starbuckian terminology. Few rocks are.
**Name that novel! Brownie point to the first! No Googling!
***I would have had another mocha, but the one tenacious constant in a lifelong pattern of disordered eating is my mild discomfort with drinking calories, unless I’ve put soup in a mug or made a conscious decision to let it go already. This does tend to keep me sober, though, mostly, which isn’t a bad side effect.
^Eating calories is only an intermittent problem for me. I like a good sugar rush, which I can get just from descriptions:
Me: What’s on the dessert menu?
Cha Cha: Okay, first there’s the Chocolate Divine—rich chocolate fudge syrup smothering chocolate ice cream, chocolate brownies, bananas and whipped cream and then—
Me: Wait—say it again . . . slower . . .
17 thoughts on “Venti Vidi Vici”
Yay!!! Another coffee-drinking convert. We’ve got you, my pretty…
Next time you’re at Starbucks, try my drink. It’s a little skinnier, and just as delicious: grande nonfat mocha, no whipped cream. Drink and fall in love.
I didn’t convert, I just stayed for one service. But it’s nice to know what to order next time I’m caught short!
Mmm-hmm. That’s what they all say.
As you know, I’m a confirmed Diet Coke addict. But, I have been known to drink coffee–especially a mocha–in a pinch. We caffeine hounds do what we have to do.
As far as Janet Evanovich’s Stephanie Plum series, I’ve read all eighteen books. The earlier ones were far, far better than the last half-dozen. But I’m still hooked on the characters, so I continue to read them. I just don’t buy them anymore.
I saw the movie yesterday. I will have to disagree with you on this. I liked the (earlier) books much more than the flick. Maybe it’s because I’ve read eighteen books and I had the characters fully developed and envisioned in my own mind, but I thought the casting was way off. And somehow it just didn’t capture the humor of the novels. Most reviews I read gave it only one star. I’d probably give it two.
When they make OUR books into movies, I think we need to demand some say in the casting. Planning to work that into my contract… (Ha.)
Yeah, I sometimes plan my day around obtaining an adequate caffeine supply for the following week . . . it’s the price I pay for being awake.
I’ll admit, I haven’t read more than the first book in this series and I’m not sure they’re for me—again, no offense to the immensely talented Janet Evanovich. and I know the movie has problems—it’s really more of an A&E channel mystery movie, I think.
All the people I want to play my characters are too old for the parts. Or dead. Sigh . . .
How cool is this club????
And, excuse me, Jason O’Mara? Yes, please.
Very cool. Or t least far too much fun. We won’t always see the movie part in the theater, but it worked out just right this time.
The squirrel in Hoodwinked is my favorite. The movie I could have lived with out, but coming from someone who has seen Monsters, Inc. a thousand times, and Despicable Me coming in a close second, I don’t really have a leg to stand on. Sometimes I just grab on to one small character who makes me laugh…and that squirrel. It’s like looking in a mirror…
You know, when I stopped drinking coffee for that week, I didn’t get any headaches, but man, was I cranky. Removing that one lovely ritual from my morning really threw me out of whack. My quest is for that perfect cup and after having Ethiopian coffee my new quest is to find Brazilian stuff. Leave it to me to even have to up the ante on my friggin’ coffee…geesh.
The squirrel and the wolf are perfectly matched in that movie. And I loved Granny G.
Not to interfere in your quest, but I’ve heard tell of a coffee called . . .Jamaican Blue Mountain.
And with that one little mocha, Sarah entered the Twilight* zone…
Welcome to the dark side Sarah.
(pre Stephanie Meyer reference)
I thought for a moment I’d entered Star Trek—all the pretty stars streaming past . . . 😀
I had to google Jason O’Mara – didn’t realise he was the bloke out of Terra Nova. Yes, he’ll do 🙂
Oh, yes. Yes, he will.
Welcome to coffee land! Go slow on the specialty coffees — I once gained 6 pounds just by having a Mocha Grande every afternoon at 3:00.
Man, those were the good old days …
Whew! Mochaland was nice to visit, but I don’t think I’ll live there.
As long as regular coffee makes me go Ugh, I’ll stick to carbonated non-caloric caffeine!
You crack me up so much.
Let’s get together when you’re zipping on Diet Pepsi with a blast of coffee and I’m hopped up on my pharma speed and coffee.
We’ll make squirrels look positively somnambulant.
It’s a date.
We should record it, too, so anyone who wants to follow can slow down the conversation on a delay. XD