More ramblings on tea...
...as inspired by a conversation with my mate Rich, over a steaming mug of said beverage.
Basically, I was extolling the virtues of the great British cuppa when he hit me with it. "You see, Ben", he said, stirring his mug playfully, "you know where you are with tea drinkers. They're alright. But coffee drinkers...", he left a dramatic pause and arched his eyebrow, "...you can't trust coffee drinkers".
I was sufficiently intrigued to ask him to explain further, and he elaborated thus. The thrust of his argument was that tea drinkers are laid back, honest to God, salt of the earth people, where as coffee drinkers are by and large crabby, ill tempered, devious, self-serving ratbags. I laughed initially at the sweeping generalisation of this theory, but, having given myself time to mull on it, it does stand up to further scrutiny.
Go somewhere where tea is being drunk and people will be relaxed and welcoming. The conversation, if there is one, will be lofty, noble and philosophical. If there is no conversation, then people will be indulging in a moment's silent contemplation, musing over the important issues of the day, such as whether to have custard creams or bourbons.
Go to where coffee is being served, however, and the atmosphere will be tense, terse and cutthroat. The conversation will be bitchy and the whole ambience will be so fraught with understated ill-intent that one is forced to either tactfully retreat or down a few cups and join in the passive-aggressive melee.
Don't believe me yet? Think about it. High-powered business people drink coffee at board meetings. It's the perfect drink to foster that ruthless, materialistic, I'm-all-right-Jack outlook that serves them so well when sealing that million dollar deal.
Still don't believe me? Try going to your local Starbucks, especially early in the morning when commuters on their way to work are queuing for that pick-me-up to get them through to their first break. Note the mood in the queue; people will look desperate, frantic, twitchy and irritable. By the time they reach the counter, bloodshot and hurting, they will be so overcome with anticipation of that hot, black elixir they will be literally foaming at the mouth. I'm reasonably convinced that this is how the cappuccino was invented.
Once they get the wretched stuff inside them, however, the change is marked and disturbing. They become almost maniacally animated, bolting off down the street like the over-confident vulgarians they have inevitably become. At least until the effect wears off and the whole terrifying cycle begins again.
It's disturbing how, as soft-drug use often leads to hard-drug use, so we have graduated from our milder coffees to the more potent continental ones. The Italians especially have an impressively powerful repertoire of coffees at their disposal. This perhaps explained why they are such intense and animated people. Such is their predilection for gesticulation that for many years I thought that everyone in Italy was deaf.
But the Italians have been drinking this stuff for years and have become hardened to it. When it comes into contact with our more fragile constitutions it plays havoc.
Take espresso, for example. This hellish potion, which is comprised of two parts diesel oil and one part crack, has to be treated with the utmost respect at all times. More than a few mouthfuls and you will be up all night, wide eyed and wired. When you have finished cleaning the entire house (twice) and sorting your CD collection into alphabetical order, you will spend the hours until sunrise babbling as you chew through your own limbs.
So, the next time someone offers you a coffee, look them straight and the eye and, with all the righteous outrage you can muster, demand they get a brew on.
Peace. X
Basically, I was extolling the virtues of the great British cuppa when he hit me with it. "You see, Ben", he said, stirring his mug playfully, "you know where you are with tea drinkers. They're alright. But coffee drinkers...", he left a dramatic pause and arched his eyebrow, "...you can't trust coffee drinkers".
I was sufficiently intrigued to ask him to explain further, and he elaborated thus. The thrust of his argument was that tea drinkers are laid back, honest to God, salt of the earth people, where as coffee drinkers are by and large crabby, ill tempered, devious, self-serving ratbags. I laughed initially at the sweeping generalisation of this theory, but, having given myself time to mull on it, it does stand up to further scrutiny.
Go somewhere where tea is being drunk and people will be relaxed and welcoming. The conversation, if there is one, will be lofty, noble and philosophical. If there is no conversation, then people will be indulging in a moment's silent contemplation, musing over the important issues of the day, such as whether to have custard creams or bourbons.
Go to where coffee is being served, however, and the atmosphere will be tense, terse and cutthroat. The conversation will be bitchy and the whole ambience will be so fraught with understated ill-intent that one is forced to either tactfully retreat or down a few cups and join in the passive-aggressive melee.
Don't believe me yet? Think about it. High-powered business people drink coffee at board meetings. It's the perfect drink to foster that ruthless, materialistic, I'm-all-right-Jack outlook that serves them so well when sealing that million dollar deal.
Still don't believe me? Try going to your local Starbucks, especially early in the morning when commuters on their way to work are queuing for that pick-me-up to get them through to their first break. Note the mood in the queue; people will look desperate, frantic, twitchy and irritable. By the time they reach the counter, bloodshot and hurting, they will be so overcome with anticipation of that hot, black elixir they will be literally foaming at the mouth. I'm reasonably convinced that this is how the cappuccino was invented.
Once they get the wretched stuff inside them, however, the change is marked and disturbing. They become almost maniacally animated, bolting off down the street like the over-confident vulgarians they have inevitably become. At least until the effect wears off and the whole terrifying cycle begins again.
It's disturbing how, as soft-drug use often leads to hard-drug use, so we have graduated from our milder coffees to the more potent continental ones. The Italians especially have an impressively powerful repertoire of coffees at their disposal. This perhaps explained why they are such intense and animated people. Such is their predilection for gesticulation that for many years I thought that everyone in Italy was deaf.
But the Italians have been drinking this stuff for years and have become hardened to it. When it comes into contact with our more fragile constitutions it plays havoc.
Take espresso, for example. This hellish potion, which is comprised of two parts diesel oil and one part crack, has to be treated with the utmost respect at all times. More than a few mouthfuls and you will be up all night, wide eyed and wired. When you have finished cleaning the entire house (twice) and sorting your CD collection into alphabetical order, you will spend the hours until sunrise babbling as you chew through your own limbs.
So, the next time someone offers you a coffee, look them straight and the eye and, with all the righteous outrage you can muster, demand they get a brew on.
Peace. X
posted by Ben Schofield at 2:59 AM
1 comments
