French Press at Work.

I’ve personally never been a massive coffee guy. Now don’t get me wrong, I respect a nice $6 cup from time to time but it’s not going to make or break me. Not the type of guy who grimaces as I sip 7-11 coffee. Say something pretentious like, “No wonder the public loves their creamer.” I also won’t sip an Intelligentsia coffee, smack my lips a couple times and drop a, “Wow. That’s smokey”. I do it for the buzz. Plain and simple.

Even though I don’t have a deep appreciation for coffee I’ve always respected those who do. These people fascinate me. They sip a dark, bitter, warm beverage and start describing it with words I didn’t know existed in the coffee world. Sweet, nutty, fruity, acidic, like bro…. It’s coffee. Sure I could probably learn: Sign up for some coffee of the month club, get a YouTube degree, go through a cool, not on the menu tasting at my local coffee shop but to be honest… I really don’t care. Would rather get my buzz and live vicariously through those who know what’s up.

Used to work with a guy who pulled this Move off. Dude would roll up with a big ole French press and make his own coffee. I remember the first time I saw him pull this off. It forever changed the way I thought about him.

We used to work in separate buildings. He was a nice guy. Played golf with him on occasion, decent player. (Kind of a goofy swing but got it around.) He knew his sports, could rip back some beers, all the ingredients for someone to transition from co-worker to “get hammered on the weekends together” but it never happened. We were always in that in-between stage. The relationship never took the jump. A part of me always thought it was mutual. Sort of like a, “Hey, we gotta good thing going but we both have plenty of friends.” I was cool with it.

Until one day I went over to the other building. I was making my rounds, “Hey Tom!” “You son of a bitch!” “Guess they’ll let anyone in here.” Then I spotted him, at his desk, grinding with a big ole French press by his side. I hit him with a, “Make your own… Nice!” He quickly acknowledged my coffee statement then changed the subject. We talked for a little then I bounced. As I was walking back to my area of work. My head was spinning. I had so many unanswered questions. Was he an undercover coffee snob? A guy who knew his stuff but was humble enough to not flex on everyone. A guy with sophisticated taste who can’t drink what the other office plebs drink. Maybe it was his choice not to be, “Get hammered on the weekend” buddies. Maybe I was the Fringe Guy….

That day I learned a lot. I learned a French press at work goes a long way. Causes intrigue, curiosity, makes people think… Which is why I think it Could Be The Move.

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