After a long, strenuous day of shopping and travelling on numerous buses, you find yourself back at a friend’s house, laden with bags, having just missed the rain that is now pouring outside and you let out a long sigh of relief

After a long, strenuous day of shopping and travelling on numerous buses, you find yourself back at a friend’s house, laden with bags, having just missed the rain that is now pouring outside and you let out a long sigh of relief. That is until she asks you that dreaded question: “Do want a cup of coffee?” I would urge you to think this question through. It seems like a good relaxing idea, a good way to round off a nice day out with your friend and to reminisce over old times. Unfortunately you are mistaken. Caught up in the appeal of tea and biccies with a bit of chatter, you have perhaps forgotten what happened the last time a friend offered you coffee or something of that sort. If so, please let my own personal experiences reignite your memory.

I guess a good place to start is with my German friend; she is a known coffee lover in my small group of friends and because of this we feel the obligation to join her in four or five cups of coffee an hour. I had my first home-made latte with her: the foam was so thick and creamy and the coffee just perfect. Being not such a strong coffee-lover myself, this was a big achievement for her and she was much complimented when I asked for another mug. Two or three mugs down the line it became evident my stomach was not as strong as my friend’s which must have been coated with years of coffee drinking experience. As I spent the rest of the evening lying on the bed staring at the ceiling, occasionally rolling over onto my stomach and occasionally giving her a meek smile, she had the pleasure of taking many photos and laughing insanely at my pathetic excuse for a tummy. So, as my first point to jump start your memory let me remind you: too much of a good thing, is most definitely a bad thing! If you still disagree, I have photos to prove it.

Let me continue with the antics I have with my German friend. She has recently been slightly under the weather due to the death of her “Coffee Machine 3000”- not the real name, but I’m not usually one to follow the ‘Coffee Machine Daily’ or whatever coffee people read, so instead I shall call the six pulleyed, twelve buttoned, eight spouted machine, the simple name of Norman. As I was saying, Norman passed away a few weeks ago, much to the despair of my friend whose eyes lit up at the chance of using him. Instead Norman has been replaced by the standard no pulley, one flip switch and no spouts machine that only works on some days. I call him Oliver. My friend though, will not let the death of Norman get her down; she attempts all of the same different kinds of coffee on Norman’s successor. Unfortunately, little Oliver is new to all of these complex coffees and tends to do his own thing, as myself and another friend discovered one Sunday morning…

The coffees were set out in front of us, in a neat little triangle; the smell of coffee was strong and satisfying as it swept over our nostrils, though we made the mistake of not relating it to the strength of the coffee. Oh man, it was like swallowing thick brown gunge that had been scraped out of Oliver’s little intestines. Poor Oli! And poor us. As we slowly forced the ‘thing’ down so as to be polite, I broke first and poured my gunge down the sink as my friend turned her back. It was another long day for my tummy. So, I come to the second match used to light your memory: don’t drink it just to be polite… it will backfire, sometimes quite literally!

Talking about politeness involving hot drinks, I remember the morning after my friend’s birthday bash. Let me set the scene for you: six rough looking teenagers, sitting in a room with the curtains pulled closed so the light doesn’t insult their eyes. Three are staring aimlessly at the TV, two are zoning in and out of reality after having a good-ole fashioned ‘all-nighter” (that would be me and the same friend who experienced the ‘Gunge Day’) and finally the host, who asks that dreaded question “Who wants hot chocolate!?” Have you ever found that Hot Chocolate seems like a good idea at first, but when you’ve finished it, you need something to cleanse your palette to get rid of the thick coat behind your teeth and in your cheeks? Well, like I said hot chocolate seemed like a good idea, so all of us agreed to have some. The host pottered around in the kitchen before coming back to describe the situation: “I only have enough Cadbury’s for some of you, the others I’ll have to use some other stuff I’ve got”. Everyone accepted this and secretly crossed their fingers for getting their childhood favourite- Cadbury’s. The host came back a few minutes later with three mugs in her hands; she gave them to the three sitting on the giant sofa so my friend and I accepted that we’d gotten the “other stuff”. In it came… it seemed a little darker than the Cadbury’s that everyone else had, but hey! ‘Bottoms up’! Our host…how can I say… had made a mistake. Instead of using creamy, smooth, chocolaty hot chocolate powder mixed with hot silky milk she had instead given us lumpy, powdery, and choking cooking cocoa powder with luke-warm water. It was like drinking lumps of gunpowder that then shot up into your nose. We wanted to be polite and appreciative to our host as it had been her birthday the day before, so we smiled-probably with our gums lined with brown gloop- and thanked her. When she sat down to watch the movie, we both subtly hid the mugs around the corner of the sofa disguising the hiding place with the corner of our duvet. We had gotten away with it. That is, until half-way through watching the movie, when we heard the loud and obvious lapping sounds of the family dog’s tongue as it drank our “hot chocolate”. My friend and I leaned over the arm of the sofa to see a very content Sparky wagging his tail and already on his second mug. There was not a lot to do but shrug our shoulders and spend most of the movie coughing and sneezing in an attempt to cover up the sound of the lapping tongue! It was strike two for my friend and I, but it did, teach us not to leave food-if you can call it that- on the floor. That day, it was not my stomach that did the suffering, but instead poor Sparky’s. So, the battery to power your memory here is this: if you can’t face turning down your host’s drink, make sure they don’t have a dog!

Even if you try to get a good hot drink, it can still go horribly wrong. Have you ever had that? When no matter how many times you explain to the waiter or to your friend how you like your coffee or tea, it never turns out right? My auntie is the worst for this: she will only drink the weakest of teas, and unfortunately in a family get-together, I pulled the short straw between my dad and brother, thus making me the tea-maker. All the way to the kitchen I could here my aunty explaining how EXACTLY she wanted that cup of tea: “Make it weak! Really weak! Hardly any tea! Is that okay?” Sure, no problem, I can make a simple cup of tea. Well, I thought I could. Off I went to the kitchen, boiled the kettle and poured it into a mug with the tea-bag cowering at the bottom. I scooped that little tea-bag out of the scalding water and looked down into the mug… nearly as clear as crystal…Perfect! I proudly carried that modest mug with the smiling cartoon cat through to the living room and my waiting aunty, handing it to her with a huge grin. She took the mug into her hands and quickly returned it to me, “Sorry, can you make it weaker please?” For lack of a better word, I was completely gutted! How could I make this even weaker!? I took it back to the kitchen… my head hanging low and poured half of the mug down the sink then re-filled it with the rest of the hot water. If this wasn’t weak enough then I was dumping this ‘duty’ on my little brother! Again I walked through to the living room, though this time with more determination and passed the water with a hint of tea to my smiling aunty… ready to receive my thank-you. Instead I got this: “Oh! It’s a little strong, but I suppose it’ll do!” I guess you win some… and then you lose some.

As a result, with this experience under your belt, people tend to turn to the coffee machines. For this purpose, I shall use the school’s coffee machine as an example. The infamous Cappuccino has caught many out, especially this last year, where the endless study periods result in endless journeys to the machines. It has the most appealing picture above the button, better than any of the other coffees, its foamy top appeals to most, and it’s a mere 30 pence for this cup of heaven, so you press the button. The cup is then wound around to the front and you pick up the little warm cup looking deep into the foam. The foam has speckles, well, lumps of un-dissolved powder, but you let it pass as it IS the school machine. It also smells slightly funky but still, down it goes. Feeling the warm sensation in the pit of your stomach, you feel a slight achievement in finding a fairly good cup of coffee for such a low price, so you decide to tell a few friends of your finding. Whilst talking to them you notice that their noses crinkle and they take a few steps back from you. After finishing your advertisement of the machine they ask you “You wouldn’t be talking about the Cappuccino, would you?” It’s only then that you discover that you’ve been the target of the Cappuccino’s cruel plan- to make your breath stink to the extent that even Listerine has its work cut out for it! So, as one final effort in the hopes of helping you through the difficulty of drinking coffee with friends, please remember to not buy cheapy trashy coffee unless of course your pockets are lined with gum and mints, or you may soon find that you have no friends to drink your cheap coffee with!

So now it looks like all the matches have been struck in my attempt to ignite your coffee memories. So when the question “Do you want a cup of coffee?” pokes its ugly head into conversation, please remember: too much of a good thing can be a bad thing: it may taste good, and it may compliment your taste-buds, but for the sake of your stomach- go easy! Don’t drink it just to be polite; if you’re unfortunate enough to feel ill afterwards, not only are you caught out by the person who made the coffee, but you’ve got a stomach ache to go with it. If you don’t have the courage to decline your host’s drink, make sure that there are plenty of plant pots to pour your drink into (make sure there are no holes in the bottom of the pot: that’s a story I’m not yet ready to tell), or make sure that there’s no dog, or if there is, that it can eat and drink quietly. If you have a difficult family member, or a friend and you are the host, ask the person to come through to the kitchen with you: not only will you continue the conversation, but they can also keep watch of what you’re doing or, if you strike lucky, they’ll make it themselves! However, if you are ever in that situation, and push does come to shove, a quick nip to the coffee machine may come in handy, especially if your friend is drinking the same- both of your bad breaths will counteract each other. If you feel that you can’t fulfil any or these rules, opt for what I have now turned to when the dreaded question is asked: make sure you say in a loud clear voice so there are no mistakes, “No thanks, I’ll have a can of Coke instead.”