The 12-Step Java Detox Shuffle
I need a 12-step program for people hooked on seasonal caffeinated beverages.
Every year the holiday revelry comes to a close as definitively as those final close-out sales, leaving me jonesing for the sweet relief that only a three-word, fully loaded, piping hot, Arabica-based infusion can provide me.
I would like to be forthright and lay all of my beans on the table, as it were. I am not a Café noir (French for black coffee) kind of girl, but rather I’m a fan of the foofy. Perhaps in all things, but we’re talking java here.
My first experience imbibing yummy drinks with built-in expiration dates came in the form of the Cinnamon Dolce latte when it was first trotted out and test marketed a few years ago.
Introduced by one of my many beloved coffee purveyors, its tenure was short and then, shurp! (That’s the sound of the Cinnamon Dolce syrup vat running empty.) Nothing, nada, zip. No good time juice for me and the others who were hooked on the stuff.
I must have stood at the front of the line pondering my quandary of deficiency for a full minute. I just could not wrap my underserved, addled brain around the fact that during this blessed season I could not have this blessed gourmet roast drink.
And, worse, when I asked the barista about the future of this fine brew he told me that it was just an experimental run and he wasn’t so sure it would be coming back.
Whaattt???!!! Is this some sort of governmental plot to keep the little people down and non-energetic? Hot, foamy tears of denial welled up, threatening to spill onto my jacket and the coffee jackets sitting on the counter.
I wanted to scream, “Give me my drink!” and the only reason l didn’t is because my husband elbowed me, reminding me that I was taking up precious line time which is one of his pet peeves. Mine is getting elbowed while I’m performing my one-act, one-woman show entitled, “Give me my drink!”
The rest of that period remains a blur as I weaned myself off of that particular latte with all manner of other specialty concoctions. I even took the suggestion to try other syrups, but it was all an abysmal failure until I found those annual delectable coffee tonics I had previously ignored.
We’re all aware that the Coffee Holiday Season begins with the October arrival of that most propitious of calendar moments – the unveiling of the Pumpkin Spice latte. I know. Most people look forward to the onset of October because of Halloween and the opportunity to dress up. Me too.
In my case it’s dressing up my caffeinated beverage with its sweet whipped cream hat and layers of sensory goodness, all buttoned into a cozy cup/sleeve ensemble.
Not to be outdone would be the non-Ides of March months that follow – November and December – which offer a bounty of days off. This is when I can dwell luxuriously and almost continuously in my java happy place, enjoying open season on all manner of tasty drinks.
There’s Spicy Gingerbread, Egg Nog, and Pumpkin Spice, oh, my! There’s incense and peppermints, the color of time. Oh, no, hey, wait a minute. I’m spouting the lyrics from the psychedelic band, Strawberry Alarm Clock’s song, “Incense and Peppermints.”
See what happens when I’m caffeine deficient? I experience weird word associations, go off on tangents and wander off topic which never happens when I’ve had a “fill-er-up” joe experience?!
And speaking of peppermint. Oh, sure, you can find peppermint any time of year, but it’s not festively festooned in a cup touting the joys of the holidays. The full pallet of playful celebratory experience is what I’m looking for, so sans that there is no joy to the world, but rather I’m humbugging my way through the world.
You ask, “What about the calories?” I realize they are “knock your Christmas stockings off” high, but no matter. I skip entire meals just to savor these luscious offerings, sparing no expense either as I delve into these top-dollar treats with verve.
It’s January now and trouble is brewing even as I write this column with shaking hands. Egg Nog is disappearing from the shelves faster than Santa and his elves disappeared from their temporary vacation home at the mall. The only Gingerbread I see is that cute Gingerbread trim that goes on houses where there are currently no Christmas lights either.
I’m by nature a perky person, so this year I’ve decided to adopt a more positive perspective instantly. It’s much like dodging anything in life that the law of averages will undoubtedly land in your path; determined creditors, self-disclosing strangers, or those pesky charging bulls.
Just fluff out your imaginary cape, yell, “Au lait!” and let the games begin.
I need a 12-step program for people hooked on seasonal caffeinated beverages.
Every year the holiday revelry comes to a close as definitively as those final close-out sales, leaving me jonesing for the sweet relief that only a three-word, fully loaded, piping hot, Arabica-based infusion can provide me.
I would like to be forthright and lay all of my beans on the table, as it were. I am not a Café noir (French for black coffee) kind of girl, but rather I’m a fan of the foofy. Perhaps in all things, but we’re talking java here.
My first experience imbibing yummy drinks with built-in expiration dates came in the form of the Cinnamon Dolce latte when it was first trotted out and test marketed a few years ago.
Introduced by one of my many beloved coffee purveyors, its tenure was short and then, shurp! (That’s the sound of the Cinnamon Dolce syrup vat running empty.) Nothing, nada, zip. No good time juice for me and the others who were hooked on the stuff.
I must have stood at the front of the line pondering my quandary of deficiency for a full minute. I just could not wrap my underserved, addled brain around the fact that during this blessed season I could not have this blessed gourmet roast drink.
And, worse, when I asked the barista about the future of this fine brew he told me that it was just an experimental run and he wasn’t so sure it would be coming back.
Whaattt???!!! Is this some sort of governmental plot to keep the little people down and non-energetic? Hot, foamy tears of denial welled up, threatening to spill onto my jacket and the coffee jackets sitting on the counter.
I wanted to scream, “Give me my drink!” and the only reason l didn’t is because my husband elbowed me, reminding me that I was taking up precious line time which is one of his pet peeves. Mine is getting elbowed while I’m performing my one-act, one-woman show entitled, “Give me my drink!”
The rest of that period remains a blur as I weaned myself off of that particular latte with all manner of other specialty concoctions. I even took the suggestion to try other syrups, but it was all an abysmal failure until I found those annual delectable coffee tonics I had previously ignored.
We’re all aware that the Coffee Holiday Season begins with the October arrival of that most propitious of calendar moments – the unveiling of the Pumpkin Spice latte. I know. Most people look forward to the onset of October because of Halloween and the opportunity to dress up. Me too.
In my case it’s dressing up my caffeinated beverage with its sweet whipped cream hat and layers of sensory goodness, all buttoned into a cozy cup/sleeve ensemble.
Not to be outdone would be the non-Ides of March months that follow – November and December – which offer a bounty of days off. This is when I can dwell luxuriously and almost continuously in my java happy place, enjoying open season on all manner of tasty drinks.
There’s Spicy Gingerbread, Egg Nog, and Pumpkin Spice, oh, my! There’s incense and peppermints, the color of time. Oh, no, hey, wait a minute. I’m spouting the lyrics from the psychedelic band, Strawberry Alarm Clock’s song, “Incense and Peppermints.”
See what happens when I’m caffeine deficient? I experience weird word associations, go off on tangents and wander off topic which never happens when I’ve had a “fill-er-up” joe experience?!
And speaking of peppermint. Oh, sure, you can find peppermint any time of year, but it’s not festively festooned in a cup touting the joys of the holidays. The full pallet of playful celebratory experience is what I’m looking for, so sans that there is no joy to the world, but rather I’m humbugging my way through the world.
You ask, “What about the calories?” I realize they are “knock your Christmas stockings off” high, but no matter. I skip entire meals just to savor these luscious offerings, sparing no expense either as I delve into these top-dollar treats with verve.
It’s January now and trouble is brewing even as I write this column with shaking hands. Egg Nog is disappearing from the shelves faster than Santa and his elves disappeared from their temporary vacation home at the mall. The only Gingerbread I see is that cute Gingerbread trim that goes on houses where there are currently no Christmas lights either.
I’m by nature a perky person, so this year I’ve decided to adopt a more positive perspective instantly. It’s much like dodging anything in life that the law of averages will undoubtedly land in your path; determined creditors, self-disclosing strangers, or those pesky charging bulls.
Just fluff out your imaginary cape, yell, “Au lait!” and let the games begin.
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