Coffee Coffee Everywhere but not a Drop to Drink

The house smells of coffee: nutty, rich, aromatic. I breathe deeply, taking in the almost-taste of the dark roast. But I don't pour myself a cup. I kicked the coffee habit for health reasons. Cold turkey. Not even a drop has crossed my lips since last February, the coldest, most brutal month.

Now I sip Earl Grey, a slightly citrusy, light brown tea that is supposed to be healthier for me. It tastes fine. Not great, fine. It works to ward off the caffeine headache I still get if I skip it completely, and it is a warm beverage to drink on a cold, damp day like today. But it is not coffee. It pales in comparison.

Coffee isn't just a hot beverage, it is a key prop at a social event. Friends meet for coffee. New romances bud over a steaming latte. Plans are made, battle lines are drawn, relationships are built and destroyed over cups of coffee. In business, it is at the coffee break when deals are decided.

Stepping into Starbucks, I experience a whole economy whirring around me. At one table, two women sip pumpkin lattes as they select bar mitzvah invitations from enormous books. Near the back, a graphic artist has his drafting board spread over a table-for-four as he selects from his hundreds of colored pencils, designing an ad for cheesecakes. His cup sits on the chair next to him. A restaurant manager interviews a potential hire; a psychic reads a customer's palm; graduate students write theses. Coffee fuels this world.

Tea nourishes differently. It is daintier and more polite than coffee. Coffee goes with doughnuts, tea matches scones. Tea is the Official Drink of the Queen, for God's sake. But it is just not me.

I suppose I can always think of myself as a reformed coffee drinker, much like a former boozer calls himself an alcoholic. I hate to separate myself from the fun and excitement that surrounds the act of drinking coffee. Maybe I'll get myself a 10-months sober button to wear into Starbucks next time I sheepishly order my tea.