Back around 1981, our motel put a Keffe Coffee Bar in every room. It was just a pot for boiling water, which you would pour into a styrofoam cup of instant coffee. If you were road-weary and looking for something to pry open the eyes, it was probably a welcome beverage. But by age 12 I was a coffee snob, grinding my own chicory-blend roast and drinking it in a mug from New Orleans. I wanted nothing to do with the Keffe Coffee Bar, and treated it with scorn and derision. Until I took one with me to college. Because being the only guy on the dorm floor who can boil water in his room made me Mister Popular. I take it all back, Keffe Coffee Bar. How can I undo all the mean things I said about you? How can we heal our damaged relationship and move on?
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