There are some areas of my life were I am definitely a snob. Technology – I always want the latest and greatest phone, computer, apps, etc.
Seating – I will chose to leave an event if I do no have a great seat. Some of that is because I am so easily distracted but a lot of it is because I am a snob.
Ink Pens – If it does not flow smoothly, it is in the trash. Won’t find any hotel pens in my purse.
However, I did not think that I was a coffee snob. Now don’t get me wrong, I am definitely a coffee lover (read addiction here) and I will bellying up the Starbuck’s bar with the best of them but I will also drink McDonalds, Waffle House or Bob Evans coffee without any problem. So when I was making plans to come to the Middle East and knew that coffee pots were rare, I thought, “I can do Nescafe for six weeks. How bad can it be?” Well, it was pretty bad...but I run ahead of myself.
The first sign that maybe this was not going to work was the fact that I had to put so much real sugar and real cream into it to be able to drink. The next sign was the time about three days into my first week that I thought, “I think I will have a cup of coffee” and then I thought, “On second thought, I don’t think I want one.” Me not wanting a cup of coffee? This was getting desperate!
I shared my concerns with my fellow Americans – who also happen to be coffee lovers and lived in the home with THE coffee pot and a solution was found. I would have a pour over every day (actually several of them)! “What exactly is a pour over?” I hear you asking. It is basically my own automatic drip coffee maker that is not automatic.
Mark grinded me up some coffee beans. (Of course, they not only had THE coffee pot but only whole beans – no, I wasn’t bitter – I had the swimming pool at my house.) Found a filter that would work and voila my own personal coffee maker.
The next morning when I made that first cup I thought this is not going to work at all but when that hot, aromatic coffee touched my taste buds for the first time not only did it make me want to slap my mama but also made my tongue slap my brain!!
Now, despite the fact that it takes about 5 minutes to make each cup of coffee, I never hesitate when my brain says, “How about a cup of coffee?”
I guess the point of this whole story is how stinking spoiled I am! I was whining about coffee while living in a city where the slums are like a scene from a Mad Max movie and the compound in which I live has a humvee at the entrance and the guards I speak to each morning are holding M-16 rifles. Get some perspective here, Becky!
What about you? Are you whining about something when it really might not be that bad? Do you need a perspective adjustment like I did?