The phrase used as the title of this post adequately sums up my coffee experience this morning. What should have been a blissful cup of quality joe, brewed in an extra snooty fashion, quickly became a nightmare.
Splashing, spilling, hands covered in molten java.
While I was lapping the coffee from my hands to avoid more of a mess, I sat my chic travel thermos in one of my many, many cup holders...which happened to be the one in which my wife had spilled coffee the night before, the puddle still fresh. Hands now cleansed of their delicious grime, I gingerly lifted my designer coffee thermos to my mouth for another tasty sip, then whimsically sat the thermos, not in its flooded cup holder, but on my lap, unaware that the bottom was coated in the rich, palatable caffeinated goodness.
The coffee ring on my lap is visible, even now.
So to all those who stood within smelling distance of me today, wondering to themselves, "Why do I smell great coffee, and where can I get some?"
Now you know.
I've said...
...too much.
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