Off to Safeway for Kenny’s favorite dark-roast, freshly ground, 3-bean, hazelnut-flavored Hawaiian coffee. (Coffee shopping is a MISSION at our house.)
Step 1: Grab 1 lb. bag and carefully portion out a little of this bean, a little of that bean, and just a smidge on top of THAT bean, until I get just the right combination to coax him out from under the poufy down duvet on colder, darker mornings.
Step 2: Pour into towering, bright red metal grinder attached to coffee wall and click “On.” Nothing happens.
Step 3: Give it a tap. Nope…
Step 4: Give it a slightly bigger whack. Still nothing…
Step 5: Okay. I’m not leaving without my magic beans, so stand back, haul off and emphatically upside it with a “TWHACK!,” whereupon the ENTIRE unit, including grinder and 4 attached, full acrylic bean bins come noisily crashing to the floor, completely totaling the grinder and bouncing thousands of tiny jumping coffee beans for 10 feet in either direction.
Step 6: Bolt out of the store, empty-handed, yelling, “CLEAN UP IN AISLE 5!!”
Off to WalMart for Folgers…
That was you!?!
Love it!
Ssshhh… It’s a secret. Okay, who blabbed?? :)
Reminds me of the Robin Williams film “Moscow on the Hudson” where a Russian refugee goes to the coffee aisle in an American supermarket and has a meltdown over the selection/
Scott, I’m better off at the small corner store. Less opportunity for public displays of “SERIOUSLY??” :)
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