For me, coffee and independence go hand-in-hand.
I don’t mean that I drink a cappuccino while saying the Pledge of Allegiance, nor am I making a stab at the Boston Tea Party. Mocha just speaks to me. It makes me feel suave, mature. Free.
It’s not that I’m a coffee lover — I’m not. I don’t know how to use my family’s coffee maker. To this day, I believe one of the best uses of coffee filters is to make paper snowflakes. My favorite Starbucks drink is a Double Chocolaty Chip Frapp which lacks that bold coffee flavor. Coffee breath is unwelcome. I make tea frequently — it’s so much simpler than coffee. Coffee requires tedious work: coffee machine, coffee beans, grinder, water at the right temperature, sugar, creamer. Creamer. I cannot begin to fathom the purpose of creamer.
But coffee makes me feel sophisticated, more experienced. I can stroll through an airport with a Peppermint Mocha in hand and look important. I can drive down the highway with a Caramel Macchiato resting in the cup holder and feel older. I’m not the same with my cup of coffee.
It’s like making the transition from training wheels to two-wheel biking. Nothing can compare to the feeling of being free from the embarrassment of childish helper wheels. Every kid is transformed the day their training wheels come off. It’s simple — they grow up.
I grow up every time I drink a cup of coffee. I can take off my training wheels and just ride through life.