Food Experience-- KHolzman

Having evolved into the nice ripe age of 18, I though it was only safe to assume that I had experienced it all considering the slim chance of survival in a house filled with testosterone and sharp and/or flammable objects otherwise. I was wrong.

After carefully reading through Steven Gilbar's Chicken a la King and the Buffalo Wing, I decided it was my mission in life to discover an absurd food on my own. And that is precisely what I did. Now, Gilbar covers a large variety of foods in his book however... coffee was not one of them. Imagine the surprise of a caffeine addict to find that the world's one finest creation was not included into this book. So I began the hunt. I searched far and wide for a coffee that had some strange and alluring name. Starbucks, Stop and Shop, K Mart- you name it, I was there. But I did not stumble upon such a find until entering a local CVS.

"Fagg's Coffee." I read. I read it again and again until the word lost all meaning. Could it be? Did I find the hidden treasure my heart had so longed for? I had. Elements of trickery and deceit were no match for such a passionate twist of fate. Losing all control, I lunged toward the coffee grasping it with both hands fearing that in some cruel reality it would disappear from sight. Excitement did not begin to describe the toxic emotions flooding my veins. My hands trembled like a virgin as I cradled the sacred find down the isle.

Unfortunately or by good luck (depending on how you look at it), the clean shaven man working the register, in the nice eye liner, was a tad bit light in the loafers. I had the pleasure of hearing him hum outdated show tunes as he unrolled dimes into the register. I glanced at him, then I glanced at the fruits of my labor. Was the coffee worth the inevitable stares, comments, an awkwardness that soon awaited? Was it worth giving up? NO! It was not worth giving up! In no way shape or form was pride or dignity even an option in this confluence of events. I earned the right to have a cup if "Fagg's Coffee" and damn it I was going to have it!

So I placed the item on the counter and reached for my wallet only to hear him grunt; loudly. Being the kind and gentle human I am, I ignored his blatant disgust and handed him my debit card.

"Fagg's coffee?" He sneered. Yes, I can read it too thank you. I look up at him with a look of boredom.

"Excuse me?" I so charmingly reply.

"You are actually going to buy this? You KNOW it says 'Faggs' on it, don't you?"

"What?!" I yell. I grab it out of his hands in angst. "What is this blasphemy! I only drink straight coffee!"

"What?"

"Were you aware they now sell gay coffee? This is not Europe!"

"Ma'am, I was only kidding..."

"You mean to say you do not take pride in the sexuality of our nation's coffee? How dare you call yourself and American! I'm all for gays, I'm all for straights. Hell, I'm all for the undecided. But don't you dare make a homosexual out of my coffee!"

Thanks to the rare stream of luck that seems to follow me, the man understood and enjoyed my caustic sense of humor. Not only was I not escorted out of that CVS in hand cuffs, but he gave me the coffee for free. And let me tell you- that was some GREAT coffee.