Coffee, God and Crack Hoes

Bear with me people this is a convoluted tale but as usual I promise that every word is true.

As a prelude to this sorry tale might I respectfully ask that, if you have not already done so, you first read this tale.

In addition here is another story. Some time ago we met a nice preacher man who runs a Mission in Honduras. He sends out medical aid and imports their coffee, which he sells for them. I may have actually blogged this in the past but to be frank I cannot remember what I was doing yesterday, let alone last year. The faithful reader will recall that the big guy upstairs and I do not converse much these days. I can’t remember what the spat was about but in the finest traditions of grudge bearing nothing gets forgiven until I get an apology. (Is it sacrilegious to expect God to apologize). Anyway, just to show what a great guy I am, we bought 30 pounds of coffee and that was my olive branch, so don’t keep me hanging for my apology.

And now for today’s story

We have, over the ages, developed a fine and wholly justified reputation for our coffees. There is no great secret one just has to buy good quality beans, store them sympathetically and grind them fresh. Water at 195 degrees and toss whatever you haven’t sold in 2 hours, my coffee has a short but happy life.

Last week two of the nastiest, skankiest crack hoes that you have even seen slithered into the shop. This in itself is unusual as despite the fact that we are situated next to the Court House and, ergo, the jail all of our customers are jolly decent sorts. Even the trustee is the sort of guy that you would want to work on your house and trust to wander around when you weren’t there. So the skanks (and using the term skanks is very, very generous) order two coffees and to make a not too subtle point I serve them in to go cups. They search through assorted bags and sacks in order to come up with the necessary $2.74 and pay me in torn bills and pennies. One of the trollops sucks on her coffee and declares that this is dishwater and says hello, where is the caffeine. As you can imagine I was outraged and looked skank 2 in the eye and say “That is the house blend, if you are not happy I will gladly refund your money”. The skanks keep the coffee and I follow them out with a mop as I Clorox a trail of bodily fluids from the counter to the door.

Well after a few minutes of muttering and stomping about I tried the coffee and it was garbage. Nasty, thin, watery dishwater unfit for human consumption or come to it, skank consumption.

Talk about no good deed going unpunished, bloody Hondurans and their crap coffee. I tell you people, you try to do the third world a favor and all the thanks you get is to be scorned by skanks.

Thank you God, thank you so bloody much.