Exit Stage Left

Yes, most of you know that I spent seven years of my life in a green apron, steaming milk, tamping a portofilter filled with finely ground espresso and pouring legal addictive stimulants for the unassuming public, but what you might not know is that for at least five of those seven years I didn't consider myself much of a coffee drinker. I had the occasional latte, but for the most part I stuck to hot chocolate or tea.

In the last year of my tenure I developed a strong taste for the evil bean and appreciated my 30% discount all the more. When I finally quit I didn't even own a coffee maker and it only took about two weeks of daily visits to realize that I couldn't afford this habit. Last year I greased a friend who could still take advantage of the discount and bought a higher-end coffee maker so that I could brew my own java in the morning and save some dough.

Every night I religiously measure out the grinds, fill up the water tank and set the automatic timer. But, before I can do that I have to clean and rinse the carafe and the filter so that I can be ready for another day. For some reason, I absolutely despise this task and every night I ask myself if I might be able to make it through the next morning without the liquid crack. Luckily for my checkbook I'm generally able to convince myself that getting through the morning without the coffee will be far more of a challenge than getting through the task of cleaning the night before. Tonight I'm asking myself this question even though I already know the answer.