My 3 Encounters With Coffee

1. When I was about 5 or 6 years old after bugging and nagging, and bugging and nagging some more, my mother, the person you know as MB, finally relented and let me have my first cup of coffee, you know how kids are, they want to be grown-up, and I guess I figured the best way to be grown-up was to drink coffee, and yeah smoke unfiltered Camels like my old man, but I'd start nagging for that after the coffee. Anyway, the coffee was about 5% coffee and about 95% milk, oh that MB was a shrewd woman, and the coffee sucked, it sucked almost as much as this post is starting to suck, and really, I thought a post about why I don't drink coffee was a great idea, you know, it would give an insight into what made me the way I am, because, I'd be way different than I am now if I drank coffee ...
So, yeah, I took about two sips of the coffee and swore I'd never drink it again, and I didn't until ...
2. When I was 18 years old and out of high school Wesley from across the street gave me a call one night telling me that he needed a ride home from work. Wesley from across the street worked in a meat market in the Northland Shopping Center, which at the time was the biggest shopping center in the Detroit area, and about a half hour drive from where Wesley from across the street and I lived. So yeah, I told WFATS that I'd pick him up, but I expected a dollar for gas money, which at that time would buy a little over 5 gallons of gas, and WFATS agreed, and told me I should go to this little coffee shop in the shopping center and wait for him, and so I did. Oh, the shopping center was located on 8 Mile Road, the same 8 Mile that was the title of that movie that I didn't see, but yeah, it was. So anyway, I got to the coffee shop, and it was winter time, and it was dark, and it was cold, and there was a really pretty waitress working behind the counter, and I guess she was about my age, maybe a little older, and I guess I wanted to impress her, you know, show her how cosmopolitan I was, so I ordered a cup of coffee, and I ordered it BLACK. So, I sat there, sipping my BLACK coffee and looking at my watch, and wondering what was taking WFATS so long, and trying to get up enough nerve to talk to the waitress, who I had convinced myself was going to move out to California any day and become the next Joey Heatherton, and I sipped the coffee, and it was hot, and I didn't really like the taste, and it was hot, but I was sure that the waitress was impressed, and I was really going to talk with her the next time she came around, and I'd say something really urbane, and witty, and we'd hit it off, and she would put off her plans for going to Hollywood, and we'd date, and I don't know, after about the third or fourth date we'd have sex, and then we'd drop acid, and join a commune, and protest the war, and have sex again, and maybe try to get on The Price is Right, I don't know ...
But anyway, I finished my cup of coffee, and did I tell you that I would have much rather had a Coke, but yeah, I finished my coffee, and the waitress came around and asked me I wanted a re-fill, and I sort of stammered around and stared at her breasts, and said ... well, I really didn't say anything, I just sort of shook my head no, so she gave me my bill, and I was positive she was going to write her name and phone number on the bill, but she must have forgot, and I looked at the bill, and the coffee was twenty cents, so I took out twenty cents from my pocket, and then just to show the waitress what she was missing by not falling madly in love with me, I took a dollar out of my wallet and put it down next to the twenty cents and got up and walked out, and back then a dollar was a lot of money, you could buy a Volkswagen for a dollar, no shit, you really could, and ...
That's it. WFATS never showed up, so I left, and drove around, and then I probably went back home, and up to my bedroom, and I probably put on my Steppenwolf album and sang along to Goddamn the Pusher Man until I fell asleep or came.
3. Ok, I knew I said this was going to be my 3 encounters with coffee post, but fuck it, the second encounter was the best, so why bother with the third, ok, let's just say my third encounter with coffee was when I was in the air force and stationed on the island of Crete, and I was in the cafeteria for lunch before working an afternoon shift, and you know everyone drank coffee, and it was the whole peer pressure thing, so after I went through the line I stopped off and said what the hell I'm going to get a cup of coffee and prove to everyone that DAMMIT I'M A MAN TOO, so I'm standing in front of the coffee machine, you know sort of swaggering, sort of looking around, sort of nodding my head, sort of giving off the I'm cool, I'm cool vibe, and I took a coffee cup off the rack, and I'm nodding my head, and giving off this coolness vibe, and I'm looking around, you know, all cool and nonchalant, and then I pressed down on the little valve thing, you know the thing that lets the coffee out, and I'm cool, and looking around, and I'm swaggering, and believe me it's hard to swagger when you're standing still, but I was, I really was swaggering, and then the coffee shoots out, I mean really shoots out, and it hits the bottom of the coffee cup, but it shot out so fast that when it hit the bottom of the cup it splashed out all over my hand, and you're familiar with the word scalding aren't you, well yeah, the coffee was scalding, and my hand was turning pink, and tears were welling up in my eyes, and I sort of lost my swagger, and I put the coffee cup down, and sort of stuck my hand in the ice machine, and then I got a glass of milk, and never thought about drinking coffee again.

And no, I'm not going to proof read this for mistakes, I'll just run spell check and that's it.