Under (French) Pressure
There comes a time in every office workers life where they must move. Maybe it’s because you get a job in a different department…perhaps even a promotion. Possibly you have to move because you are moving out, under duress or otherwise. One thing’s for sure, you aren’t going to stay in that same cubicle forever.
For me this happens often. I’d love to tell you it’s because my rocket ship is headed up the fast track to wealth, fame, and power; but the truth of the matter is some sadistic jerk in our building just likes reconfiguring people. I’ve moved with my entire department at least 7 times in 8 years that I can remember. It’s always because they want to re-do, re-configure, and generally re-annoy me. I recently moved into a “swing space” in an entirely different building while they re-do our floor again. This time it’s so they can cram more people into the same size space.
Which brings me to the point of this post: While cleaning out and boxing my stuff I came across a French press in our break room. It was there when we moved into that area…and was still there when we were leaving. Having been unmolested the entire time, I knew it was a relic from some other group of people migrating around the building as well. Some poor guy probably lost it 3 moves ago. I decided to scoop it up. If it had been a “personal” size I’d have left it…but this was a 34oz press…which is pretty big. Definitely big enough to warrant the hassle of using it. I’m not much of a coffee snob. I will re-tread someone’s leftover K-cup, I will drink instant, I’m not brand conscious, and I don’t think decaf is for suckers. I think Starbucks must really mean “burned” when they say “bold”. Drinking that stuff is a special kind of punishment that should be reserved for terrorists and child murderers.
So I brought it home…and gave it a bath…and set out to try it. I went to the grocery store and got some good beans and fresh ground them in the big grinder on the “French press” setting. I mean, if I’m going to do this we are going to at least attempt to do it right. I looked up the process online and started cooking some water. I poured, I steeped, I waited, and pressed.
It smelled good. It tasted even better.
It’s hard to describe, but I guess if I had to use a word it would be “velvety”. I know that’s more of a textural reference but I’m stickin with it. It’s the best I’ve got. It’s definitely caused me to drink more coffee, and with less added stuff. I still drink the ole office Joe, but now I might also drink some on a Saturday morning. Or maybe have some with ice-cream watching a movie.
I thought I’d get to the end of this post and have some poignant or at least mildly amusing observation about what I’ve learned in this experience. The best I can come up with is that while it’s good, better than most coffee, it’s hardly worth sticking your nose up about. Very little is, in fact. Don’t be a dick about coffee…or really anything. Be a good person. Be nice. Look up from your phone every now and again and smile at someone.
Have a nice day.