Coffeeism is indeed one of the world’s great religions. Okay while we do have those who’s religious beliefs can best be boxed into the self described tag of Catholic, Jew, Muslim, Buddhist, Atheist etc…okay you get the gist. There are far more religions or lack thereof then I can list out here. As for me, I am a coffeeist and indeed a slave to the bean.
Each and every morning as dawn comes up, the sun peaks out from its nightly hangover, and emerges yet again like that fearsome superhero out of the Batcave, I am up in search of my first of many cups of liquid gold.
Despite the Gods of Seattle who don their temples in green and black, not altogether dissimilar to bizarrely enough an Irish pub. While the faithful flock to the altar of sameness I can only ponder the phenomenon arising from that fog ridden place somewhere in the northwest of America to conquer the world.
Drinking and driving could be dangerous to your heath. I take no chances.
We have been spared the plaid clad ghosts of grunge and Cobain, though I ran across Eddie Vedder doing a cameo role in the kitschy spoof ‘The Dewey Cox Story.’ In the old days of colonial ambition it was said “the sun never sets on the British Empire”, though for the true believers who worship the bean as I do, it’s 24/7 globally at the nearest house of the holy.
Despite living on an island, dressing remains a simple task, even for someone as stylistically challenged as I am. Shorts, t-shirt though then dubious complications arise as somehow my collection of Havaianas has risen beyond the magic number of 7, so I am indeed faced with choices that often leave me dazed and confused. Flip flops on; it’s out the door on my profane mission of indeed moving to that higher calling.
My daily devotion takes place at the strangely named Sandwich Shoppe near to my office and the entrance of the glitzy destination resort Laguna Phuket. It’s a non sectarian homey place where good vibes make up for the polish and canned ambience of the mainstream. Believers and non-believers intermix in a strange congregation of locals, tourists and the more then occasional lunatic fringe.
Ever since the dawn of mankind, groups have huddled around campfires in caves or under the stars, telling tales that range from talking about the weather, politics, gossip and gripes. Images from the Stone Age with denizens in a circle create a vivid image. Coffeeism or at least the shape of things to come clearly can be traced back to post evolution society.
The need to gather, talk, read, surf the net or stare aimlessly into space and get wired on coffee remains a common bond at my local. Idle chat, angry debates and when all else fails reciting the morning headlines or glancing at the sky and commenting on rain or shine remains the tribal ritual.
The gangs all here. There's comfort in numbers.
As for the Sandwich Shoppe, coffee, breakfast and lunch, sandwiches and sweets are on offer from dusk till dawn with free Wi-Fi. And while I do change my place of worship from time to time. Sinking into the welcoming depths of those earthy toned brown couches or chairs at that ‘other place.’ More often than not I find myself back at my happy place, seeing familiar faces just down the street on my small island Phuket.
