Computerjargon.com

I’ve made no secret about my love of coffee. My coffee snobness has gotten so bad that I can no longer drink the coffee at work and must purchase a dark roast from the local coffee chain every morning.

For the last 9 months after dropping of Riley I head over to the Dunn Bros. near daycare. Every morning I order a large dark roast and I pay with my credit card. Most mornings I run into the barista, Aaron. We don’t say much to each other. I place my order, he gets me my coffee. Most mornings the moment my car rolls into the parking spot my coffee is ready.

On the mornings that a new person is working the counter I get asked if I want their punch card frequent buyer card. I always turn them down citing that my wallet is already large enough. Every once in awhile Aaron will give me a free coffee “just because.” And every once in awhile I’ll drop in a $5 dollar tip in for the good service.

So this morning I roll up to Dunn Bros. like I do every morning. As I walk in the store I grab for my wallet. Unfortunately all I grab is my ass, there is no wallet. After losing my wedding band (a story for a different day) I’m a little nuts about my things. I panic, wondering if I’d dropped it at the gym last night. I hightail it back to the car to give Courtney a buzz.

While this is happening I notice the daily routine of my coffee being poured inside. I felt bad but I was going to need to blow off Dunn Bros. this morning. I just didn’t have the money.

As I waited for Courtney to pick up her cell phone one of the baristas walked out to my car and handed me my daily coffee. I looked at her and thanked her and explained my situation. She said it was on the house anyways. While a free cup of coffee isn’t an extraordinary  gesture, I appreciated the fact they went so far as to walk it out to my car.

Aaron and his cohorts are good folk. If you’re ever looking for coffee in the morning, I’d head over to Dunn Bros. in Maple Grove.

I recently informed Courtney that I needed to start budgeting for a new item: coffee. I’ve never been too particular about the type of coffee I drink. Most places I’ve worked have had terrible coffee, but the new place takes the cake on “worst coffee ever”. Luckily Riles convenient daycare situation saves the day, it’s located near a Dunn Bros. coffee shop. Each morning I swing in for my $1.81 medium French roast to power up my morning. So I told Courtney that I will now officially budget 10 dollars a week for my coffee habit. It just can’t be any other way.

I am groggy…tired. We have a coupon for a free drink at Caribou hanging on the fridge and I am too tired to go. I stumble into the kitchen and bang around some of cabinet doors. Through the haze I notice with my right eye that we have a coffee maker. A signal travels from my brain to my hand, slowly. It informs my right arm that it must dig for beans, dig for coffee beans like my life depends on it. Slowly yet methodically I begin the hunt for anything resembling coffee beans in the cabinet.

Bingo. I find a 1/4 bag of beans ready for grinding. I fill up the grinder and with as much subtlety as a Mack truck I grind the beans. I pause and listen for any reprecautions of my actions. No dog movement…No Courtney movement….I’m in the clear. Now, all I need to do is throw the ground beans into the maker and wait for ilfe to begin.

I am immediately struck by the curse of Jason of the Past. The Jason of the Now needs coffee but the Jason of the Past didn’t think about this last time he made coffee. Now, I am faced with a full filter of grounds from weeks ago. They have been sitting in the maker ever since my last episode with coffee growing mould. The only problem with our fancy coffee maker is that the filter is fancy too. Reusable filters require cleaning, cleaning that Jason of the Past didn’t want to do and cleaning that Jason of the Now doesn’t want to do either.

I make haste with emptying the filter and giving it a good once over in the sink. I’m not quite sure if it’s clean. I haven’t opened my eyes to look. I finish and begin brewing. I go about my merry way.

Hours pass, it seems like yesterday that I made the coffee. I have enjoyed cup after cup of the good morning brew. As I polish off the bottom of the pot I think to myself, “There was something I should be doing. What is it?” I realize the paradox that I am about to become. Jason of the Now is about to become Jason of the Past. Jason of the Future, who will be Jason of the Now, will curse Jason of the Past for not cleaning out the filter if Jason of the Now, now, doesn’t do it. I struggle to comprehend it all.

I pause. I contemplate. I grab the filter and clean it out cursing Jason of the Now, of the future, for making me do such a thing.

At work we have pressurized coffee pots, the kind that you push down on a handle and coffee is dispensed through a spout. Since they are not traditional coffee pots there isn’t a way to see into them to know exactly how much coffee is left in them. The pots also are heavier than traditional pots so even picking them up doesn’t tell you too much. Every time you push on the handle you are risking being the one having to make more coffee.

Because of this I find a lot of almost empty pots. The person right before me pushed the handle 3 times without running the pot dry. I played the game but only got two pushes in before the pot ran out.

I have seen many folks avoid an almost empty pot just so they won’t have to make the next batch. They divert their choice from coffee to a pop or water. It tends to be quite comical.

But, as most coffee drinkers know, the most annoying part is being the only one willing to brew more coffee. We have five pots at work, 3 regular and 2 decaf. I have seen days where I have drained all three pots trying to get just one single cup of coffee. grrr..