Somewhere, in the mess of boxes I carted to our new apartment, I have a 5-pound container of Maxwell House coffee.
I never wanted a 5-pound container of Maxwell House coffee.
When I moved into my apartment in Dyker Heights right after my divorce, Mom took me to BJs and bought me enough food to feed a circus of nomadic acrobats. Of that stash, I still have the coffee and the restaurant-size box of Splenda.
As I told Mom at the time, I don’t really make coffee for myself. Even now, Devon and I make our own coffee only on the weekend. When I was living alone, I would grab some at the local bodega or drink the free, deadly coffee at work. Now, I have a 5-pound container of coffee that is almost five years old and not getting better with age. I don’t even use Splenda anymore, since I switched to cofffee without sugar. I am screwed.
This coffee has become like the Gideon Bible. I can’t throw it away, because Mom will strike me down. I can’t use it, because it’s gross. There’s only so much I can use to absorb smells in the fridge.
This coffee will haunt me until I die. Thanks, Mom.
Yes.
Because coffee is the most your mom can ever haunt anyone.
Fucking wopette.
Coffee ground make good compost, but…I think it has to be "made" coffee grounds…damn. Nevermind.
Thanks, Booshy. I'm slowly accepting the fact that I'm going to have to snort it all, or something.
dude you've been divorced for almost five years? how freaking time flies…and coffee stays good if you freeze it. have more company over make coffee.