l'histoire au café...pour moi.

forgive my french, literally, as it may be gramatically or completely incorrect, but i enjoy french and hope to get better at it. if it is wrong, forgive me. if it works, read on. now, let me tell you about the history of coffee...for me.

nineteen eighty eight: as my uncle would babysit us (he was a 25 year old bachelor) we loved him. we always looked forward to him visiting from denver as he would put us in boxes and skateboard us around the neighborhood. he would then put us in a car seat with a helmet and skateboard us around the neighborhood pretending we were in a space shuttle. one time, whether it was a family renuion or get together (i forget) he was to take us to our aunt and uncle's in salina, kansas (i'm sure my parents just wanted a break so they met us there). he brought some unfamiliar candy for us as it looked like round chocolates. smooth, round, soft, aromatically pleasing. i bit into one and found a hard core. it was unfamiliar, but i liked it. about twenty chocolate-covered espresso beans later, we were all wired. i don't know too many people who could handle a four, six, and eight year old buzzing from coffee and chocolate on a six hour car ride.

nineteen ninety five: going to a small, private, christian school growing up, fifth and sixth graders at my school would put on a "dinner theatre" as a fundraiser for a three day camp we would go on. so the routine happened. we would have auditions, the same kids would get the main parts, and the rest of us would be everyone-is-in-the-play type characters - whatever that was. i'm sure the teachers would pencil in characters to fit everyone in. anyway, before the play we would serve dinner, usually salad, and either spaghetti or lasagna. then we would clean up, start the show, and serve coffee/dessert during intermission. that's where it happened.

trevor was my accomplice as we both had minor (if you can even claim them as being that major) parts. we found the coffee, cream, and sugar in the back room as the play was in the spotlight. we decided that we should have some. of course it was just gross for eleven year olds so we had to put some creme and some sugar in our coffee. gross. we had to put alot of sugar and alot of cream in our coffee to be good. anyone that has ever spent more than five minutes around eleven year olds know what sugar and coffee can do.

nineteen ninety six: my aunt (the wife of my previous bachelor uncle) had a peculiar looking drink and offered some to me (with my parent's approval). mmm, it was warm like hot chocolate, it was sweet like hot chocolate, but it had that coffee taste that i had remembered before. i made a note of the "espresso" written on the side of the cup for when i had a chance of my own to order a non-hot chocolate drink.

remembering exactly what i had seen and being surprised at the price, i looked confidently and boldly at the starbucks barista.
"i'll have an espresso please."
...
"are you sure, it's pretty strong" said the barista looking at an eight year old looking twelve year old.
"oh i know. i had one the other day, and it was tasty," i said even more confidently.
the barista looked at my brother, then sixteen, for guidance but found none.
"alright, is that all for today"
my brother got a drink too, which i forget exactly. as i got my espresso, i wondered why it was so small. maybe because i was small, i thought. this explains the price, my proceding thought declared.
as i delicately handled the warm, smooth, rich liquid, i tipped it to my little lips and sipped the foam... it was the worst thing i had ever touched. this most definitely wasn't espresso. i knew my espresso and this wasn't it.
we walked to church meeting the rest of the family as they had to prepare for sunday school or something. peter finished his drink with no resistance.

nineteen ninety seven: as i went to the same school for twelve years (kindergarten through eleventh grade - the same small private school) i knew everyone. my eighth grade year came along, and i met the new girl in ninth grade. seeing that i looked three years premature my age and she looked three years mature her age, everyone naturally picked us (sarcastically) to be friends. well that exact thing happened and we hung out quite a bit. as most guys liked her at the school, i was happy she hungout with me at all, even especially since it was alot. we declared that we would go to starbucks (this time i would take the upper hand and make sure they gave me what i ordered) once a month to reminisce about life, school, sports, and...her guys. i do believe i chose a caramel macchiato most of the time as it was coffee, but sweet, and tasty. those were fun times. as i'm sure she hadn't consumed as much coffee as i had since she was easily nine inches to a foot taller than me, people would often ask if she was babysitting (despite our only sixteen month age difference. her now-fiance is thirty two months younger :).

two thousand three: as i had moved to littleton, colorado, i was looking for a job - preferably at a restaurant. i think i walked in to a mexican restaurant and wasn't too thrilled. i was then walking around downtown littleton, poking my head into different places when i walked in to main street tavern. i asked the guy if they were hiring, and he looked at me with a smirk and said, "we aren't, but you might check next door," as he realized i was far too young to work at a tavern (i had thought it was a restaurant). i then went next door and was amazed with the preset dining room, the white table cloths, the sparkling glasses, the custom-made light holders, the workwers wearing dress pants and finely pressed white shirts.
"i talked to the guy next door, and he said you might be hiring. i'm a college student and i just moved here, and am looking for a job."
"we are, and you're just the type of person we're looking for," richard said in a charming british accent. "fill out this application, bring it back tomorrow before four, and allan will be here to talk to you." so i did, and with some convincing (despite having not previous restaurant or wine knowledge whatsoever), i got the job. it turned out to be the best job i have ever had until this summer. it also turned out to not just be a fine dining restaurant, but it was a café as well. i learned how to work the espresso machine and soon was making drinks for the whole kitchen staff (as i enjoyed experimenting, and they seemed to like my coffee opus - opus is the name of the restaurant by the way). i then learned about wine and coffee, becoming somewhat of a connaisseur of both - moreso coffee as i couldn't drink the wine only being nineteen years old.

that was the groundbreaking coffee time for me. i had grown to love coffee, but at that point, i realized how it was made, the different steps involved, and the appreciation for the wonderfully smelling beans. even though during college my college years it has been easiest to drink coffee black, i mostly enjoy drinking drip coffee black, café nature, but, unlike my particular friend david who will only drink it one way, will drink it according to my mood. café nature, café crème, café au lait - it all depends. i have found that i am very productive, in fact most productive, with written work, research, or designing while in a coffee shop atmosphere.