Coffee

Wednesday 1st February, 2012


Ah love coffee.

Ah drink aboot eight cups o’ it a day.

Ah mean, ah REALLY love it, man.  LOVE IT.

Ah drink a cup first hing in the mornin, ah drink it richt through the day and have mare it afore a go tae bed at nicht.

Ah drink black coffee, ah drink white coffee, ah drink frothy coffee, ah drink lattes, frappes, cappuccino, macchiato an’ och — ma favourite — The Mocha.

Ah usually have ma last cuppa just afore a go tae bed at nicht — here, did ah say that a’riddy?  Ah hink ah did.  Sorry.

 

Ah love the smell o’ ground coffee as it brews an’ drips oot the espresso machine.

Ah love subtle smell o’ filter coffee as it mashes in a — in a hingymabob.  Och, a what’d’ye’m’cry’it.  A juggy hingy.  Wi’ the plunger, ken.  Cafetiere, that’s it!  Oh ah love the smell o’ fresh coffee fae a cafetiere.

 

Ah love gaun tae ma favourite coffee shop an’ sittin’ while the lassie in the pinny roasts the beans in the big red beast o’ a machine she’s got there.

Bloody huge so it is, Christ, it near fills the whole bit!

The smell.  Oh, the smell.

Ah love it when she opens the door an’ that first rush o’ reek comes waftin’ oot the roaster.

Mmm, mmm!

 

Ah love it when she talks tae ye aboot beans.  She takes ye roon’ the full planet.  There’s Brazilian coffee, Ethiopian coffee, Sumatran coffee, Guatemalan.  She’s got four continents stocked on the shelves!  Ower 20 varieties o’ it a’ the gither!!

That is AMAZING.

Ah pure love coffee!

 

[Shift]

Ah’ll tell ye whit ah don’t love.

Ah don’t love it when know-it-all tossers stert tellin’ ye facts about caffeine.

Ah don’t love it when yer Da says tae ye —

 

‘Here – son – you’re needin’ tae lay aff the coffee afore ye gan tae yer bed pal, it’ll jist keep ye up.’

 

[Bemused]

Ah don’t love it when interferin’ gits et yer work say —

 

‘It’s nae wunner ye cannae get oot yer bed in the mornin,
yer up a’ nicht wired on coffee.’

 

[Enraged]

JOG.  ON.

 

Ah ken better than onybody how much coffee ah can or cannae take.

Coffee RELAXES me.

Coffee gets me in the zone.

Coffee HELPS me tae sleep.

Ah widnae get the 3 ‘oors sleep a DAE manage tae get if ah DIDNAE drink coffee.

 

[Suddenly calm]

Ma doctor.

She says —

 

‘Gordon, I think you should limit your intake of caffeine.
I think it’s to blame for keeping you awake at night.
I think you are an addict.’

[Build horror]

She says that tae me!

Ah sat there.

Ah mean, ah just sat there, luckin’ et ‘er like she’d jist juggled mince in ma coupon.

Ah didnae ken whit tae say tae her.

Ah took a richt guid slurp on ma venti triple-shot sugar-free hazelnut soya latte, licked ma lips, rifted, and sat there.  Luckin’ et ‘er.

 

[Fresh rage]

JOG.  RIGHT.  ON.

 

Bloody know-it-all doctor, tellin’ ME aboot caffeine!

B’Christ, d’ye hink ah’m schoopit hen!

Dae ye think ah sit up a’ nicht coontin’ sheep?

Dae ye think ah lie in ma bed greetin’ fir ma mammy, wantin’ kisses, cuddles an’ tucked in?  Eh — NAW!

Ah’m 29, wido.

Ah’ve got twae degrees, twae masters, AND a P-h-D.

Ah ken EVERYHIN, an’ ah mean EVERYHIN there is tae ken aboot sleep.

Unlike bollockchops ower there wi’ his independent panel o’ expert wifey annecdotes.

Ah kin tell ye the precise quantities o’ caffeine per milligram in each variety.

Ah ken ma science.

Ah ken whit ah’m talkin’ aboot.

 

[Shift]

Like ah says, coffee relaxes me.

 

Did you ken these doctors don’t even get trained on sleep when they’re et medical school?

No kiddin’!

Nae wordae a lie, like!

Ma auld GP yist tae phone ME for advice aboot patients that couldnae sleep at nicht.

Seriously!

 

[Grins]

Wait – did you’s hink ah’m here for help?

Ha!

Am ah hell!

Ah’m here ‘cause it’s easy tae pick up women!

The sleep deprived yins are a’y gaggin fir it!  Naebody else’ll pit up wi’ them, shufflin’ and rumblin’ aboot a’ nicht—

 

[Interrupted]

Whit wis that?

Oh.  Aye.  Sorry, pal.

 

[Subdued]

Eh…  Hello.  Ma name’s Gordon.  Ah’m 29 an’ ah’m happy tae be here.  Honest.

Oh – an’ ah LOVE coffee.

[Wink]

 

‘Coffee’ is a monologue from the play ‘2h:9m:37s — A comedy based on one man’s experiences of insomnia’, by Kris Haddow.

First recited at CC&T, Finnieston as part of ‘An exhibition of spoken word’, Aug 2011.

 

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