It's The Thought

They say it's the thought that counts, which is extra helpful for me, since I had a thought to do something nice for the fella, but my actions didn't exactly follow it through. You see, he happens to be as fond of coffee as I am of Diet Dr. Pepper. I, on the other hand, can't stand the stuff.

I decided, however, that brewing an excellent cup o' joe for him was a lovely little gesture. Several weeks ago when we ventured to the zoo we began the day with a late morning brunch at home. Having never actually used a coffee pot I guessed about where the grounds went, poured some (several scoops?) in and hit brew. He was tickled that I would think to make a pot, so we sat and waited for the caffeinated treat. Approximately 7 minutes had elapsed when I mused, "This sure takes a while." "Yes, this is above averagely long," he replied. "I wasn't supposed to put water in, right?" I asked. He laughed, asked me how much coffee I'd put in and explained the correct proportion of water needed. Unfortunately, "Some to a lot" isn't a very good measure of grounds, so we took an educated guess about the water needed. We sat and waited, and he continued to chuckle at me. It had been quite a while longer when he went to investigate why there was still no coffee in the pot. Well, you see, apparently it's necessary to put the lid on the pot to release the brewing beverage. As soon as he secured the top, "PLOP!" a mess of coffee-scented sludge dropped right into the pot. He was a sweet sport, though, and forced down several sips before waving the white flag between guffaws.

I decided to retry my luck more recently when I discovered that my former roommate had left her pot behind when she moved out. I purchased some grounds and filters, threw some in the appropriate place, poured in some water and went to find the pot. Unfortunately, there wasn't a pot to be found, so I wisely placed a mug underneath the mouth of the maker and found a wooden spoon to push the release open. As I stood there holding it with hot coffee alternately filling the mug and running down my arm, the fella entered the kitchen to silently witness my attempts at this business. Once again, he sweetly sipped the resulting drink while shuddering at the grit and thickness.

After throwing the remainder out he gave me a big hug and told me that I was welcome to just buy him a Starbucks drink next time I wanted to treat him to a java surprise and thanked me for my heroic efforts. Then picking up the grounds I'd purchased to help with the clean up, I heard him snort. "Folgers INSTANT Coffee," he read. "Just add hot water." Well, who knew instant didn't require a jimmy rigged pot brewing? Apparently everyone but me. Someone pass my a diet soda and be done with it.