Coffee is a deceptive mistress

It smells rich and mysterious, it swims along the nasal mucous membrane with the grace of an athlete, encircles the olfactory nerve like a pet snake from a vampire movie. It teases and promises, it offers glimpses of exotic and alluring futures, wrapped in a deep and permeating cosmopolitan yet somehow ancient and veiled lifestyle.
Yet the taste almost consistenly fails to deliver one iota of this promise and leaves behind jangling nerves, shaking hands, bad breath and a vague urge to void the bowels.
A deceptive mistress indeed.

Whereas tea, on the other hand, makes good on the assurances of its aroma, provides by turns relaxation, envigoration, soothing and strength, wakefulness and somnolence, befitting whatever varied purpose of those who sup.

So remind me again why tea shops are becoming a thing of the past and coffee houses are Mecca to the new seekers of a dream lifestyle?

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I play bass, I cook, I look out the window. Sometimes I prefer wondering what's out there to going out and looking. But not all the time. I only recently learned that leaving two spaces after a full stop is obsolete.

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