The untreated cardboard sleeve around the venti-plus cup, stamped with biodegradable inks, proclaiming the coffee shop's proud independence, the simple black printing on the flecked card making its own statement about authenticity.
I always order a small coffee in a medium cup—to leave room for cream, without subtracting from the full amount of coffee I paid for. I’m like that with love too, except I don’t need nearly as much room for cream.
There are those who love to get dirty and fix things. They drink coffee at dawn, beer after work. And those who stay clean, just appreciate things. At breakfast they have milk and juice at night. There are those who do both, they drink tea.
I would offer to meet up for some coffee, but I don’t drink coffee. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to burden you with my personal problems. It’s just that I haven’t been the same since the Folgers fiasco of ‘04.
I called her twice, but she didn’t call me back. She’s more efficient than me, as she’s able to communicate without communicating. It’s sad, because I had two cups of coffee, and I was going to let her watch me chug both.
The sun was already long past the spire when Garrick purchased a mug of coffee from his regular man on the tip of Oxford Street. But his palate had been educated by 21st century coffee, and he judged this mug as bilge water not fit for the Irish.
I brought you some coffee.” he held out the cup but she waved it away.“I hate that stuff. It tastes like feet.”At that he smiled. “How would you know what feet taste like?”“I just know.”-Luke and Clary, pg.209-
I’ll bet Ryan Lilly drinks coffee like a flower—a lily. I drink coffee more like two roses and a nose walk into a bar. I would tell you what the bartender said, but to be honest, the bar was pretty noisy and I didn’t hear what he said.
But back to the coffee. I was here on a mission. I just spent nearly five bucks I didn’t have for some coffee concoction that tasted like the charred remains of Hitler’s soul, and I was not about to leave until I had asked for her phone number.
Katherine screwed her nose up at the taste of the instant coffee.Grace laughed. "Trust me. You love this stuff. You can't start your day without it.""Well that is just depressing," Katherine murmured, chasing a pea around her plate with a plastic fork.
Wait!"What?" I lowered my cup hastily, wondering if maybe there was a stray hair, or worse, a newly boiled bug inside my cup.You got to smell it first. It's the proper way to cup coffee."Cup coffee?"Taste it."What? Are you the coffee police or something?
Follow the ideal doing,grind the beans just before brewing.Use spring water,for softened water,makes a horror.A parley perfect,between the coffee,and the milk,with some,brown sugar thick.” (Poem: An apology of a coffee lunatic, Book: Ginger and Honey)
Coffee is far more than a beverage. It is an invitation to life, disguised as a cup of warm liquid. It's a trumpet wakeup call or a gentle rousing hand on your shoulder ... Coffee is an experience, an offer, a rite of passage, a good excuse to get together.
If one unlabeled bottle holds nonfat milk, what does the second unlabeled bottle contain? If you answered “Whole milk” then you’re obviously not ready to receive a jug of my love. So I’ll just pour it in someone else’s coffee.
I had a dream about you. Your skin was sandpaper and your armpits were hollow, filled with dark chocolate and prunes. You offered me coffee and when I said no you handed me black coffee with a note that read "12 reasons not to drink coffee". I knew we would get along.
