The Taste Of Coffee

I probably shouldn't be doing this, trying to write after two beers, I mean. A little woozy I am, and that's not only the alcohol talking.

We just discussed that this evening, how the same amount of alcohol can affect you so differently depending on the situation and your condition. Like when sometimes a bottle of wine, leisurely consumed in the course of an evening, won't leave you more than slightly tipsy, at other times gets you totally wasted. Or nearly any way. Two beers isn't that much, but for me, tonight, it's quite enough to make me feel a little intoxicated. Preface:

I came over for coffee. And a chat. I got the coffee. Spilled all over me. No, it wasn't that dramatic, he was just a little unlucky, the door had just changed place. (I didn't get burned either, as the coffee landed on the floor first and just splashed all around.) And it had absolutely nothing to do with being drunk and uncoordinated, though he told me he had a couple of G&T's before I came. It was just an accident. Like so many things are. Things you don't plan - they just happen anyway. And sometimes these events of fate lead to something wonderful. Like Java tasting kneecaps.

I got a challenge as well tonight. "Now you have to be creative with your writing!" he said, wondering how I was going to convey the happenings of this evening. When I got home my first plan wasn't really to write anything; I called my dad instead. (I'm still amazed how lucky I am to be able to call my dad, whenever I want. Not that I do call him at these outrageous hours that often, but I can if I want/need to.) And I was incredibly thirsty and grabbed a beer. (Which is actually out of character;I don't drink that much beer, especially not on my own, but I took the two left in my fridge.) So, this is status: I'm so sorry, but clearly these tiny two beers have left me a bit befuddled, and creative writing seems to be out of the question. I even suspect I might edit this post later - that's how light-headed I feel right now! But I guess that's the price to pay for dancing salsa on an Afghan rug.