Sugar in My Coffee

Yesterday, I got curious and tried sugar in my coffee.

I'd like to use a dynamic word for literary effect, something like repulsive, loathsome, or even vile. However, I wouldn't want to risk offending the sorts of freaks who enjoy sugar in their coffee, so I'll just say it was bad.

Boy, was it bad.

I mean, really bad.

Really, really bad.

Your inner voice, let's call him Bill, is chastising me. I hear him buzzing around inside your noggin in a state of perpetual defensiveness. Bill likes to imagine he has your best interests at heart.^[1] Your own inner paladin, noble and chaste (except maybe on Friday nights, but we needn't get into that here). He is offended because I've been rude to you with my words.

I've got a lot of nerve.

"We like sugar in our coffee. That doesn't make us a freak. Coffee is better with sugar. We'd go so far as to say it's great with sugar," Bill says in a tizz. But none of us believes a word of it. Not you. Not me. Not even Bill.

"Just because you happen to dislike something doesn't make it gross," he continues, ignoring my complete lack of interest.

But look, I never said it was gross. I said it was really, really bad.

"You know what's gross? Black coffee. It's bitter and nasty . . . like you!"

I never said it was gross.

"You and you're bad attitude are gross! That's who's gross."

Easy now, Bill, easy. Let's not imagine we're saying something we'll regret. Remember what the therapist said, "Five things you can see, four things you can touch . . . I'm sorry, we're out of time for today."

At any rate, sugar in coffee is gross.

1. Your imagination has an imagination of its own? What a couple of freaks. Heaven only knows what you two get up to when nobody else is around. I don't even want to think about those Friday nights you never talk about.