I’m really more a tea person than a coffee person. One pro
who came to work Christmas camp at the ranch pointed out the many ‘isms’ that
are Polkahontas, one of which being the coffee mug constantly attached to my hand. The
kitchen staff orders almond milk in bulk and keeps the good tea on hand for me.
On the really cold mornings I’ll make my tea while I announce to them, ‘Does
anyone want to teach tennis for me this morning? Going once….going twice…..’. My
tribal-patterned mug warms my hands, containing the perfect ratio of hot tea
and almond milk. My tea preferences went out the window when Matt put a
steaming cup of Chemex-brewed coffee in front of me. Matt and Katie’s adorable
golden-doodle, Dirk watched intently as I took my first sip of Matt’s
concoction. Now, I don’t know if I possess the words to describe how GOOD this
coffee was. Matt informed me that he had roasted the beans himself. I believed
him. I would have believed him if he said that he planted the tree in South
America and flew down once a week to fertilize it only with the manure of the
most noble Clydesdales, then harvested the beans himself, roasting each bean
individually to perfection only to grind it personally on a mono and metate
made of the finest marble that he also mined himself. It was pretty good
coffee. With that charge, Katie and I tried to talk Matt into joining our yoga
session, to no avail. It was a great night with the newlyweds. We chatted about
concepts of love and how to love people most effectively. Katie is one of my longtime
friends from home. She and I are bonded by events from our past that we got
through together. Because I love her so much, it is heartwarming to see her
happy in a new home with her pup and barista man.
Texas is BIG. Six hours into my drive across the broad back
of this state, I was tired. I stopped to make myself a PB&J at a gas
station. I sat on the trunk of my car, picnicking and watching truckers watch
me. When I finally arrived at Marisha’s house I got my second wind.
‘It’s the weekend. We’re going out. Let’s gooooooooooo!’
Marisha is also a friend from home who guides me in each season of my life. She
is the perfect combination of therapist and friend. She is often the voice on
the other end of the phone, encouraging me and reassuring me that I am not
crazy. We settled for a trendy lounge and found ourselves in enlightening
conversation about that incredible and terrifying realization that we can do
anything we want in this life. Two bold men who invited themselves to sit down
with us interrupted the magic. They were ordinary guys who wouldn’t stop
talking about their research project. I played along, seeing a free drink in my
future. Marisha wouldn’t have any of it. She would probably disagree with this
version of the story, but seeing as I’m writing the tale and she’s not able to
defend herself, I’ll say this; she practically beat the poor guys away with her
Fossil wallet. As they scurried away with tails between their legs, Marisha
turned to me with a sick smile and said, ‘I’m not sharing you.’ This is why I
love Marisha and our relationship; She isn’t afraid of hurting anyone’s
feelings by being straightforward. As we finished our libations I looked at her
mischievously and told her I had an idea.
‘Let’s ditch the tab. I’ll pretend to go to the bathroom,
and you follow after me.’
‘What?!! No! We can’t do that! I’m not doing that! Darrah,
NO.’ I didn’t let up.
‘Come on, it’s not a big deal. This trip is about being
adventurous. Let’s go.’ I got up and walked out of the lounge. It took Marisha
a full minute of sitting in agony before she asked to pay the bartender, who
informed her that I had paid the tab while she was in the bathroom. She came
out of the lounge with smoke coming out of her ears.
‘I hate you.’ She fumed. But the smile on her face told me something
different. That’s another reason I love Marisha. She’s honest.
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