There are few things in this world I love more than coffee. Per what is supposedly an old Turkish proverb, coffee should be black as hell, strong as death, and sweet as love. I endorse that.
One day, at the Newark Airport waiting to pick up my younger son who was flying in from Chicago for some holiday or other, I was waiting at a Dunkin Donuts kiosk. Ahead of me was a TSA worker getting some fru fru drink. I placed my order, "Large, black coffee." She turned to me and, in all seriousness, asked, "What does black coffee taste like."
Were I faster, I'd have said "Chicken."
I wasn't that fast. I said, "Coffee."
Tomorrow morning I'll make a few cups of Sumatran in the French press. But Dunkin will do just fine, thank you.
This is a terrific piece.