good to the last drop

I have a confession to make to my coffee-loving friends out there, those of you who brew it and those of you who pursue it. I love a good, cheap cup of coffee. We have a worship gathering at our church tonight, and my main thought is “I wonder if we’ll go to IHOP afterward”. I am the type of girl who truly enjoys the feel of a thick ceramic coffee mug, just waiting to be refilled again and again with a lifeless brown substance (always enhanced by two creams & two sugars). Here at the office, we have never ending supplies of Folgers and Maxwell House at our disposal, along with any kind of sweetener a girl could ask for. Sure, I enjoy a well-brewed latte. I even look back fondly on the fabulous espresso I enjoyed in Antigua, Guatemala with a breakfast of eggs and black beans (I think they literally harvested the beans in their backyard). I like good coffee. But deep down, I am just a roadside truckstop, 85-cent, bottomless cup-o-joe kinda gal. (Add a jukebox and some hash browns scattered, smothered, and covered and I’ll even dance a little jig for ya!)

I’ve got $2 in the jukebox, and $5 in a bottle ~ 10 more just in case that don’t do the trick. I’ll be dead broke tomorrow morning, with heart-aches by the dozen, and a lady on my mind that’s driving me crazy.
~ Eddie Rabbitt (best truckstop jukebox song I could think of...)