Iced Coffee . . .

For many years, despite living in downtown DC where there were no less than EIGHT Starbucks and dozens of places to "get a coffee" between my house, the Metro, the Metro, and my office that I never even TRIED coffee.

To prevent leaving blame at the feet of the world's largest coffee-opoly I should clarify that I never liked coffee, the smell of it, the notion of it, or the "need" mentality so many have around it. Coffee, for me, is something my father brews and drinks by the pot and something Cathy had on her, un-ironically, coffee mug. It seemed like the crutch of the masses. Not the "religion is a crutch"-crutch (which it is . . . but the best possible kind of crutch) but a crutch none-the-less.

Yet, after years and years and years of refusing (save frappuccinos (NOT coffee (they are MILKSHAKES) and frozen espresso drinks from au bon pain) to consume even a drop of coffee - in any form - I . . . one day . . . broke down and had an iced coffee (and by that I mean a few ounces of coffee, a bunch of ice, several ounces of milk and 1,000,000 packets of Splenda in a cup).

What a FOOL I had been. HOW could I have been so stupid? HOW could the world have been spinning this at this speed of obvious enlightenment and, yet, there I was just standing STILL? Since then . . . gallons and gallons of iced coffee (with the milk and sweeteners) have gone down my gullet with gusto and the crutch of support it offers is not lost on me. It is cherished on and with me.

But a few weeks ago I did something truly, amazingly, and unselfishly bold . . . I got the iced coffee without all the dairy and without all the Splenda. It took several, several sips to accept this black, satiny G-dess for what she was but when it hit me (and by that I mean the buzz) it HIT me. So I looked at the young fella behind the bar and asked "What the heck is this?" and he said COLD BREWED ICED COFFEE (with COLD BREWED ICED COFFEE ICE CUBES) and I flipped the proverbial f*ck out. Mind actually blown (figuratively).

Apparently this is a thing . . . cold brewing coffee like so much sun tea - a mysterious joy of summer. But here's where the plot of this moment of true zen got nutso . . . it was apparently FLAVORED coffee. Cinnamon chip, no less. Cinnamon is one of my favorite flavors in the whole, wide world. YAHTZEE!

So this weekend I'm going to march (drive - I will be well in to a nine mile run before the sun even rises - cut me some friggin' slack) myself down to the Spice Merchant and get a pound (or two) of flavored coffee and I'm going to make this sorta sweet, sorta buzzy beverage part of my life.