Coffee Snobs R Us

In the past several years I have heard more than one business consultant extol the genius of Starbucks and the experience based model that they believe drives their success in business. Frankly the idea of ordering my coffee with Italian words for the sizes is a bit pretentious in my opinion. Granted, the environment is comfortable, the music is good, but the coffee—the coffee is addictive.

Day four of our road trip finds us in Missouri. An emergency BCO directive (see the blog on the receiving principle) stops us at a gas station to fill up and deal with biological urgencies. Although we have purchased gas we suffer the guilt of having facilitated the proprietor’s utilities without additional purchases. At 7:30 am there is only one purchase that makes sense and that is coffee. I step to the coffee bar and note the adjectives describing the lava hot liquids inside and choose the one that I discern to be the boldest

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I have a friend who drinks his coffee black. His comment is “I want no chemical pollutants in my coffee.” I respect that. I have another friend that only uses light cream. In fact, we met eons ago at the coffee bar at Hope Chapel in Nashua, NH. Andy was wearing a large green army parka. He poured his coffee and reached to the inside pocket and pulled out a small container. I watched with great interest, as supplementing beverages from small containers was not a behavior with which I was unfamiliar. However, small hidden containers to supplement coffee at church—this was a new adventure. When Andy realized that he was caught, he said, “It’s cream. I don’t do powder in my coffee.”

I responded, “Hit me!” Andy shared his cream and we have relished our friendship for twenty years now, and many gallons of coffee with cream. But I wander—back to Missouri.

I pass on the powdered creamer—thank you Andy—and cap my cauldron of hot liquid and set out down the road. Cup in cup-holder, westward bound, cruise control set I reach for the beverage and that first, I wish my lips were made of asbestos, sip. “AUGH%#*@(*^%!” In the court of culinary law there is not enough evidence to convict this liquid of being coffee. In the Midwest the word coffee is defined as a hot brown liquid with no discernable flavor that you drink in the morning for God knows what reason. Then it hits me….

HI. MY NAME IS DAVID AND I AM A COFFEE SNOB! That’s right. I drive the interstate looking for the green circle with a star that points the way to what Graham Cooke describes as his favorite church St. Arbucks. I am a convert. I am not a missionary yet as I practice my rituals in small groups and one on one meetings. I am not sure what kind of commitment is required, but evidently I am ready to make it. As Graham says, “It’s a lot less expensive than regular church, and often times much more anointed.” But the bottom line is—it’s all about the coffee.