Whether it’s good or bad, it’s all good.
I love good coffee, the kind that takes five minutes to brew with a precise pour over and a steady hand. I love it when the beans are ground so fine, and so fresh, they’re basically illegal. I love the ritual of preparation. It’s a peaceful, focused time.
I love bad coffee, the kind that you buy in drive-thrus and rest stops, the kind you gulp down so fast it burns your throat. I love the quiet waits in line and the gentle small talk at the counter, the contemplation over the perfect …
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