Dear Coffee, I Will Forever Be Your Biggest 'Feen'

When someone informs me that they dislike coffee, I wonder how they will ever understand me.
This post was published on the now-closed HuffPost Contributor platform. Contributors control their own work and posted freely to our site. If you need to flag this entry as abusive, send us an email.

Each time a friend who has long declined offers to join me in my coffee indulgences miraculously decides to cross over into my world of regular consumption, I feel a sense of responsibility and pride for their initiation. I am almost tempted to present them with a biscotti and whisper devilishly, "Welcome to the dark side, darling. Joe is happy you are here." It's as though coffee lovers belong to some sort of special alliance, unified by their devotion to "Joe".

On the contrary, when someone informs me that they dislike coffee, I wonder how they will ever understand me. When they then offer an explanation in the realm of, "I just don't like the taste," I am tempted to thump them on the forehead and simply say, "Okay, so?" Although I find its taste to be lovely, the actual experience of coffee is what its lovers treasure so fondly. The sound of it brewing, the robust smell greeting our noses and the feel of the warm mug in our hands are collectively responsible for making our relationship with it so sweet.

Dear Joe, I So Treasure Your Friendship...

Coffee represents the early morning stillness of a quiet house. It is a reminder that the day is new and the slate is clean. It is the silent companion during your commute to work. It is the ally in your corner of the classroom. It represents enthralling conversations and pertinent business negotiations. It is a "power hour" with an old friend. It is an influx of inspiration. It is an ever-present, willing participant.


A cup of coffee is a morning ritual, an afternoon ritual and occasionally an after "woah that was a monstrous dinner and no one is yet ready to depart from the table" ritual. It is a "save me from crawling back into bed" ritual. It is a "get me through this meeting" ritual. It is a "jack me up and let the creativity flow" ritual. It is a "How will I ever endure this alone?" ritual, and, most importantly, it is a togetherness ritual. It makes everything brighter. It is a rite of passage into adulthood. It is a friendly kick in the pants. It is the lightbulb flashing over your head. It is stimulating, indulgent, celebratory and commemorating. It is all of those things, but limited to none of those things.


Coffee and I have gazed at many sunsets and endured a jillion sleepless nights throughout the duration of our union. We've experienced hair days both fortunate and tragic. We've taken nature strolls together. We've ventured through a myriad of creative terrains, and its companionship has never failed to sustain me. Some of my most life-altering epiphanies have struck me in between latte sips. We've embarked on countless road trips, some rocky and some smooth. In my most defeated moments, it has been the spinach to my inner "Popeye". We've seen the best of times and the worst of times, therefore my fondness for it shall never die.

"We're In This Together, Girl..."

It's as though it is always cheering me on, cradling me, affirming me or providing me with a high-five. Countless beginnings and endings I've had to face, but coffee has been ever-present as if to say, "We're in this together, girl." It has been the the most consistent of sidekicks.

So, dear Joe, I am grateful for the daily dose of mojo. Without you, I'd often be stuck in "slow mo". You're so much more than an indulgent supply of caffeine, and I will forever be your biggest "feen". I so treasure your friendship.

Read the original and extended version of this article by Lacey Johnson, along with recipes and tips, on The Daily Doll.

Go To Homepage