The truth about coffee


(Tenaya Tremp)

By Sophia Martin

Let’s all just be honest with ourselves … coffee doesn’t taste good. When you hear someone say, “It’s an acquired taste,” what they really mean is, “I convince myself to like it to reap the benefits.” Things that are truly delicious are never categorized as that. When was the last time you heard someone call cake an “acquired taste”? That deceitful phrase is reserved for the likes of anchovies, cilantro, and yes … coffee. Don’t get me wrong, I am guilty as well. This is why I feel qualified to reveal the secrets of caffeine addicts like myself and say … it tastes like crap. The taste of coffee is something you really just have to painfully endure. But the way I can most accurately explain it is through a story of my childhood. 

In first grade, I was playing on the playground at my school. For some reason, instead of wood chips or sand, like schools run by normal people have, my school used shredded-up tires. Yes, like the rubber tires from your grandpa’s old pickup truck. And staying on-brand as the clumsy mess I am, I tripped over my velcro shoe strap and fell face-first into the pit of mangled Goodyears. I went home that day with black stains on my face. Believe me when I say that was my first introduction to the taste of coffee.

Now you may ask, “Sophia, if you don’t like the taste, why do you drink it?” This is a valid question I often ask myself, but entering my senior year of high school, I’m simply in too deep to turn back now. I’m sorry, but green tea just doesn’t do it for me. I envy the girls who can survive off of a Starbucks refresher that’s 90 percent water, ice, and sugar. If there is not at least 100 mg of caffeine in my system at any time, please, for your own sake, refrain from talking to me. You will receive a response far from comprehensible, as I will be half asleep.

This is why coffee places are so popular: They have discovered if you dump enough sugar and milk into coffee, you can make it almost tolerable. That’s why my kitchen currently contains five bottles of cold brew coffee, two gallons of almond milk, and enough packets of sugar to stock an IHOP for a month. 

The first time I drank coffee was to prove to my family that I was cool and finally grown up. I hated it. Three years later, I still hate it. So to all of the people who drink black coffee, I applaud you. And to all the people who don’t feel the need for their heart to constantly be at an accelerated rate, please teach me your ways.