Confessions of a Caffeine Addict

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Sarah explains why hot beverage intolerance is not rad, man.

“What do you mean, you don’t drink coffee,” I question just about everyone I meet now who doesn’t a harbour a striking caffeine addiction. What do you mean, you don’t rely heavily on a stimulative substance to jolt you awake and alert, to temporarily numb the stinging headaches and make the sleepiness evaporate. What do you mean, coffee isn’t a medium over which you have regular bitch sessions with your friends. What do you mean, you’re a uni student. I don’t understand.

Being a moderately adequate citizen, I’ll generally leave it there. I won’t follow you home and inspect your pantry, to further seek proof of your humanity. I won’t manhandle you into the nearest cafe and insist on your drinking a caffeinated beverage with me at gunpoint. This is fine. You don’t like it, fine. Drink your hot chocolate like a six-year-old juvenile about to be tucked into bed. Sip on your Earl Grey flavoured water like a sixty-year-old woman about to be wheeled away to moan to Dr. Brown about her arthritis. I will not understand, but I will accept your lifestyle without intolerance. I will not however, stand for having my beverage choices revoked.

You don’t want to rely upon a substance, you say. You’re above that, it’s unhealthy; there’s so much more to life. What kind of first impression are you hoping to beam on me? Listen mate, to a lot of people coffee is only the essence of living. What you are pulling here is not a sick trick on a skateboard. I couldn’t understand you to begin with, and now you are being as rude as a brood parasite.

You don’t want to rely on a substance, you said. We are talking cappuccinos and mochas, not cannabis and methamphetamine. There is nothing wrong here. Plus science says coffee is actually good for you, my dear ignorant twat. Not Simon, SCIENCE. Can’t argue with that. No, I am not your Taylor Swift and I will not stand for your shit. Coffee etiquette, my dear (wo)man is like approaching people of differing religions, races and bra sizes. You cannot rule out your method of living as the one true be all. You are being a Jehovah’s Witness of hot drinks, a top notch arsehole. If the brew is too bitter for you, forget it broseph. Just don’t be a dick about it.

Perhaps I find it daunting that there are members of society who don’t require a daily cup of joe to exist as a functioning human being. I am a drug addict, sure. I don’t like admitting this, as this opens up a realm of ugly truths (financial and emotional). Maybe the only difference between the crack addict down the road and me is that my drug of choice is socially acceptable and hence more easily consumed in public, guilt free and without fear of arrest and marginalisation.

Still, until caffeine is proven as the primary cause of cancer, you have absolutely no right to judge me. You cannot shit on my hopes, dreams and constant reliance on caffeine. Until then, I will continue to shamelessly inhale my standard caps. You can go right ahead and watch me.

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One thought on “Confessions of a Caffeine Addict

  1. Preach! I will never understood how people manage to get through uni without coffee. Especially when it’s the exams, like today I already had like four cups and it’s peachy.

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