Kristine stumbled out of bed, her eyes half-closed from a perfect night of slumber, cuddled up to her favorite husband - me. In a daze, she tripped over my pants, stubbed her toe on a shoe I had tossed aside while falling into our Select Comfort bed the night before, and finally stepping squarely onto a G.I. Joe figure, the fake gun digging into the soft flesh of her perfect foot.
Cursing into the crisp morning air, she walked off the pain, stomping down the two flights of stairs. Arriving in the kitchen, she surveyed the coffee grinder and noticed that it was empty. Opening the cupboard where we keep the Dunn Bros beans in an air-tight container, she was horror-struck. It was empty.
No coffee!!!
Then she remembered that a few days back, she had purchased a liter of their black as night Infinite Black cold-pressed brew. It was in a bottle in the mini-fridge behind her, as she squatted in her white robe, a sight for anyone to behold.
Spinning around on the balls of her feet, she opened the fridge and grabbed the bottle of black, thick liquid and stood up. Grabbing a glass, she dumped in a generous quantity of the liquid gold, capped the bottle, and returned it to the fridge. Then she walked over to the General Electric, stainless steel, side-by-side refrigerator, opened the door with a jerk, and grabbed the creamer. As she is known to do, she poured enough creamer into the cold-pressed coffee to turn it white, mixed it with a smooth-handled spoon from Ikea, returned the creamer to the side-by-side fridge, and lifted the glass to her beautiful lips.
Imagine a woman, standing there, looking into the glass as she tips it upward so the liquid can pour into her parted lips and tasting the...
SPLAT! Kristine leaned over the sink and spit every last drop down the drain, stared into the glass and wondered how cold pressed coffee could taste so...rancid.
Sadly, she wasted my perfectly good oatmeal stout from The Moose Jaw in Wisconsin Dells. I arrived home later to find my growler nearly empty.
I might have to label it more clearly next time.
Cursing into the crisp morning air, she walked off the pain, stomping down the two flights of stairs. Arriving in the kitchen, she surveyed the coffee grinder and noticed that it was empty. Opening the cupboard where we keep the Dunn Bros beans in an air-tight container, she was horror-struck. It was empty.
No coffee!!!
Then she remembered that a few days back, she had purchased a liter of their black as night Infinite Black cold-pressed brew. It was in a bottle in the mini-fridge behind her, as she squatted in her white robe, a sight for anyone to behold.
Spinning around on the balls of her feet, she opened the fridge and grabbed the bottle of black, thick liquid and stood up. Grabbing a glass, she dumped in a generous quantity of the liquid gold, capped the bottle, and returned it to the fridge. Then she walked over to the General Electric, stainless steel, side-by-side refrigerator, opened the door with a jerk, and grabbed the creamer. As she is known to do, she poured enough creamer into the cold-pressed coffee to turn it white, mixed it with a smooth-handled spoon from Ikea, returned the creamer to the side-by-side fridge, and lifted the glass to her beautiful lips.
Imagine a woman, standing there, looking into the glass as she tips it upward so the liquid can pour into her parted lips and tasting the...
SPLAT! Kristine leaned over the sink and spit every last drop down the drain, stared into the glass and wondered how cold pressed coffee could taste so...rancid.
Sadly, she wasted my perfectly good oatmeal stout from The Moose Jaw in Wisconsin Dells. I arrived home later to find my growler nearly empty.
I might have to label it more clearly next time.
Oh! :( Both of you had a horrible experience with this coffee shortage. It's too bad to have the good beer lost... & Kristine's taste buds traumatized. :)
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