I shan’t be staying silent any longer.
The coffee in America tastes like burnt mixed with sadness with an added teaspoon of disappointment and it’s cruel.
It’s mostly cruel because coffee represents hope and excitement. Joy and laughter. Productivity and comfort. So when you take one big gulp and you realise you’re sipping on some sort of coffee flavoured water infused with ashtray and dirt one cannot help but mutter grumpily, “This. Is. Not. What. I. Ordered.”
You see, I’ve been to the United States three times. I love it. The people are ridiculously friendly, there’s always someone singing and/or dancing in the middle of the street for no reason and 80 per cent of the time they’re actually good, and the quality of their trashy television is unparalleled.
But when I travelled to Hawaii just a few weeks ago, I came with a brand new addiction.
I’d heard the rumours.
“It’s the worst thing I’ve ever put in my mouth…” said some.
“It’s bitter dishwater,” said others.
One colleague even insisted that she’d much rather have it injected than have to drink it through her mouth hole.
Goodness gracious me.
But nothing could have prepared me for my first coffee experience in the US.
Firstly, it stinks. Like a coffee shop that was set on fire and then maybe urinated upon. Mmmmm.
Secondly, you burned the coffee. It ain’t right. Where is your thermometer?
Thirdly, it’s like they realised it tastes like burning so then poured a carton of cool cream on it plus a few cups of sugar.
If you look closely, the person handing you your coffee actually look a lil’ bit guilty. Because, deep down, they know.
It’s a poor impersonation of coffee and an indictment on the entire industry of warm beverages.
American coffee is the equivalent of zucchini noodles claiming to be pasta. You’re not pasta.
Or sweet potato fries claiming to be real fries. You’re not chips. You’re a poorly disguised vegetable that tastes like earwax.
We all know it’s a lie and it’s not at all okay.