I have tried in vain to give up coffee. It never works. This perturbs me. I would like to have more control in my life. I would like to be able to make a decision and keep to it. Follow through. And yet, alas, it doesn’t work with coffee. The bean has too strong a hold over my soul.

I would like to at least give up coffee for a month or 20. But I can’t get past 2 weeks. After 2 weeks with no bean, my body begins to shiver and shake and I start mumbling things about watching TV on Mars in a great big Martian condo.

I get bored, too. I get tired and lack the focus needed to get through the day wading through the hordes of humanity that just won’t quit being stupid and thoughtless and selfish.

I’m selfish, too. I want my bean when I want my bean. And that’s that. I want it hot with water in a cup. I don’t care where the cup is made. If it’s made in some faraway country, then so be it. I know I should care more. But when everything I own and use in my days as a human being on the planet in 2023 is made by someone most likely half-way or more around the world—this river of material objects we’re swimming in—then why should I care where my cup is from? From whence does this guilt arise?

I try to be a good person and recycle my paper bags. Or at least forego the option to take a new paper bag at the grocery store when I buy my eggs and strawberries and fake meat. I lied. I don’t buy eggs. Not that much. I truly hate eggs for the most part. Unless they’re served with a heaping pile of fresh-fried bacon. But then I get guilty for eating pig. I like pigs. I think they have really fine snouts. And they make really cute noises. I try and eat them as little as possible. But I would be lying if I said I don’t eat them on occasion.

And I’m not lying when I say I haven’t had any of the following any time in my life (no shit, really):

• Poached eggs
• Eggs over-easy
• Fried eggs
• Deviled eggs
• Hard-boiled eggs
• Soft-boiled eggs
• Eggs benedict.

I’m highly pedestrian. I only eat them scrambled. The way chickens intended when they drop them like golf balls out of their little furry chicken rumps.

I’m allowed the dignity of my personal preferences. If I don’t like blue blazers or Botox then allow me my freedom to not like blue blazers or Botox. My wrinkles are sacred. I worked hard and worried a shitton to get those wrinkles. Leave them be.

But I digress…

I’m trying to limit the occasions I take new paper bags at the grocery store to as little as possible. Then I don’t feel so guilty. I’m already racked with guilt about drinking coffee not shade-grown and fairly-traded and organically-produced.

I know in my soul this is the only form of coffee I should consume. So in order to compensate for my first-world indiscretions, I smile more at people. I open doors for old ladies and I try and forego tailgating people on the freeway at least during the hours of 8 a.m. to 10:17 a.m., Monday through Tuesday, Pacific Standard Time.

But alas, I have my preferences. And Chock Full o’ Nuts (no nuts in it, actually) is my favorite coffee. I drink it every day.

I don’t want to give the impression that I drink 6 cups a day. I may spout off about drinking 6 cups a day, but that’s just bluster. I keep it down to 2 or 2.35 cups a day.

My wife loves Chock Full o’ Nuts. That’s how I know she’s my soul mate. We both like the same coffee, same strength and we both drink it black. None of this fancy vegan oat milk or coconut milk or even real milk creamer. And never with sugar. Leave the sugar for the ice cream and cookies and gluten-free coffee cake. Really…

Why spoil a perfectly good cup of hot black coffee (not shade-grown or organic, sorry) with sugar or milk or watery oat stuff?

And do you really need to put hazelnut or French vanilla or strawberry creamer flavoring in your beautiful dark black cup of straight-up coffee?

Really?

People are so stupid and literal and serious that Chock Full o’ Nuts had to put “No Nuts” (or something like that) on the can. People must’ve thought it contained nuts. I can see that. Maybe a hazelnut or walnut or almond-infused coffee.

But no. It’s just beans—coffee beans. But maybe some people are allergic to nuts and Chock Full o’ Nuts was just being thoughtful. I can see that.

I don’t know how they get those Chock Full o’ Nuts beans off the bean tree. I don’t know if the people picking the beans have dental insurance. These are the thoughts running through my brain after just half a cup of Chock Full o’ Nuts.

Can you imagine what I’ll be thinking after 2.35 cups?

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