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Whoring for Coffee

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Hi. I’m Scott. This is me.


I’m a musician. This is also me.


Really. I kid you not. These things happen.

What I am not is any sort of coffee expert. In fact, take whatever you imagine a coffee expert to be and I am probably the opposite. I’ve blogged about me and coffee before, and our uneasy truce. You can read about that here.

So what am I doing, blogging for Klekolo? Well that came from the musician thing. Turns out Yvette likes the music I do. Now don’t get excited, it’s not some rock star writing under a pseudonym. Check the photos again. Would a rock star be using a BlackBerry?? No. A rock star would be using an iPhone. Or so I assume. However, Yvette did have cause to hear some of my music, was taken by it, so I sent her some MP3s.

Oh, and I regaled her. Yes, I did. Regaled. Not with things musical but with my delicious iced coffee concoctions. Leftover Maxwell House poured into both an ice cube tray and a jar, stuck in freezer and fridge respectively. Then later I smooshed the works with a hand blender, adding cream and chocolate syrup and making what amounts to a mocha Slurpee.

While she was grateful for the music, she took pity, Yvette did. Pity in this case came in a box with four 1/2 lb. bags of coffee beans. Repayment for the music, she says. I know now it is missionary work. Inside the box was also a single cup brewing cone, filters and instructions. More about the torment of the instructions later, but suffice to say it was, first of all, the most fragrant package I’ve ever received and, once I overcame the tremendous intimidation presented in four little bags, I was delivered. From evil? To Heaven? To a pristine beach in Hawaii or Malaysia? I have no idea. What I know is, there is more counter space in my tiny kitchen now that I put that medieval drip machine under the counter.

Oh, the “whoring” of the title? Well, the musician business is notoriously underpaying if you’re not Bono or Mick or someone like that. I write to buy groceries. Or, in this case, to feed my newborn caffeine fetish. Yvette’s my pusher. I’m a bean whore.

Zero to coffee snob in under two weeks.

Drinking: Sweet Love Blend

Listening: “Sweet Love” – Anita Baker

2 thoughts on “Whoring for Coffee”

  1. You’re not kidding. I got a haircut and my knees don’t hurt. I don’t know if those have anything to do with the coffee, but who knows?

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