Coffee Is More Than Just Caffeine To Me

I remember as an 8th grader in middle school, I asked my mama could I drink coffee during breakfast before I went to school.

"No Kenon, you're too young to be drinking coffee. You are not ready for it."

Having an inquisitive mind, I wanted to know. Why can I not drink this hot beverage? It smells like hot chocolate, it looks like hot chocolate and I was able to drink that all of the time. What makes coffee so special that I can't have any? The way my mama told me no, you would have thought I was asking for a bottle of Jack Daniels at 13 years old. 

Every morning I smelled the aroma of coffee. Watching my mama brew a pot, pour some in a mug, add cream, sugar, stirred it, and drank it. While she never drunk coffee in an abundance, when I looked at her, the first sip put a smile on her face. 

"I want to smile like that! I want to feel all happy inside. I want some coffee and I can't wait any longer!" My thoughts every time I asked as if I wanted permission to drink from the fountain of youth. I was a curious and an over-thinker as a kid. While I never fixed my lips to say "Why not?" because I was smart enough to know those words could delay my mission for years!

Then I became a working young man. Driving myself to school, work, and paying for the cell phone & car insurance bills. At this point, if she wasn't going to let me have any coffee, I would just have to be rebellious and possibly lose my car privileges. It really was that serious to me! I was willing to stand out like a sore thumb among my friends whom always drove to school, not blasting music from my own car, because my mama would be picking me up. 

One Saturday morning, no school, but work in the evening, I didn't need to get up at 9am for any reason. Until the aroma of pancakes, eggs and sausages broke into my bedroom. I'm pretty sure my door was closed, and our home did not have thin walls. 

"Wake up and come eat some breakfast Kenon."

A bit resilient to get out of my bed because I knew the routine all too well. If I smelled breakfast being cooked, I knew there was a pot of coffee either being made or already brewing, and I wasn't getting any of it.

"Mama, can I have some coffee pah-lease?" (Yes, at this point saying the "P" word was me showing a desperate attempt hoping for self-pity.)

Without saying a word, she pulled out a mug from the kitchen cabinet, poured coffee into it and asked me...

"Do you want cream and sugar in it?"

I looked at my cell phone to make sure it wasn't April Fools Day... nope! I paused for a second, looked around to see if she was talking to my dad and I just didn't see him. 

"Do you want cream and sugar in it?" she asked again.

I said yes in such a non-chalant way that if she actually was talking to my dad, I wouldn't feel so embarrassed. Then she put the mug in front of, and I just stared at it. Lost in translation of real life and possibly day dreaming. This is the moment, this is my time! I don't know where the sounds of a loud roaring crowd came from, but I know I heard them cheering in excitement.

"Hurry up and drink it! Coffee doesn't taste good when it is cold."

Hearing those words snapped me out of the hypnosis trans that I was in, and I realized this moment is really happening! I had my first sip and it was too hot, but I didn't let the blazing temperature stop me. I blew on the coffee as if I was trying to console a baby from crying.

"It's okay, it's okay don't worry, just calm down."

I took another sip and still, the temperature was too hot, yet at this point I didn't even care! It was the most amazing feeling ever! I ate the rest of my pancakes, eggs and sausage faster than Usain Bolt could run. I didn't want to ever forget this taste. I wanted to savior every sip. As I looked inside the mug and seen there was almost nothing left, I cried a little bit inside! (I told you, this mission to drink coffee was so serious and quite hysterical haha!) I asked my mama for some more and she said no, that is all you will need. 

I wondered why she said that is all I will need. As if it was a dose of Advil and I should only have enough to cure my headache, otherwise it just cause more headache.

By the time I went to work, I understood why she stopped serving me as if I was a drunk guy at a bar so intoxicated that I was not allowed to drink anymore. My eyes felt so wide opened, feeling like I never blinked! Things seemed to be moving faster in my head than they actually were in person. I felt as if I was more focused than ever! Later that night, the moment I went home, I went to my bedroom and experienced my first caffeine crash!

Until I moved out of my parents house and to college, my coffee restrictions stayed at one cup. The first & second thing I asked for as of what I wanted for my dorm... a coffee machine and coffee! No more restrictions! Freedom! I was more excited to finally drink as much coffee as I wanted, whenever I wanted than going to the first few college parties and drinking alcohol. 

Fast forward to the present and coffee became more than just a hot beverage to me, it is a religion and an addiction. I began drinking one pot a day, which turned into three at the most! Then I experienced espresso, french-pressed coffee for the first time... I questioned have I really been living under a rock my whole life! Nope, it was just my parents house, which in regards to coffee, maybe I was living under a rock (but it wasn't by my own choice). 

Already having insomnia, I never really cared to drink coffee for the pure sake of keeping me up late at night to finish homework on a Sunday night (that was due the next morning). I simply loved the taste of it. I loved how when I felt so panicky (without drinking it), it actually calmed me down more then giving me boosts of hidden energy. When I tell people how much coffee I drink on a daily basis, I tell them between one to three pots (12-36 cups). Knowing what their reactions would be (which is still normal to me).

"Wow, why do you drink so much coffee?"
"How are you not bouncing off of walls? That is a lot of coffee!"
"I drink 2 cups and I am done!"

And my all time favorite/classic line by friends I met in college Katelyn and Shelly...

"If you cut yourself, instead of blood, it would be coffee from your veins!"

It feels a bit weird writing this post because I find myself wondering "How did I get to this point? Am I really addicted to coffee?" as I am drinking my sixth cup of coffee for the night and I think twentieth for the day... I don't know, I stop keeping count after ten haha! 

The first question has already been answered... yet for the second question I always answer in a defensive way that sounds good to me.

"Yes, I am addicted to coffee! However, it is not for the caffeine that I am infatuated with, I just love it! I would rather have this addiction than some other one, like drugs!"