Goodbye, My Friend

5 Aug

My coffee maker passed away this morning. It was a horrible shock, and all I can think is if I had been paying attention I would have known that it was coming. I would have been prepared to say my final goodbyes. I would have treated him better. In all honesty, my Mr. Coffee did occasionally show signs of his distress over the past year or so. I was just too self-absorbed to see. He was slow to brew. He sputtered and coughed a little more than usual. I had to push the ‘On’ button more than once. Sometimes, I’d put twelve cups of water in and only get six cups of coffee in return. 
I thought he was just being stubborn. I’d clean him and talk nice to him and he’d do better for awhile, but a few weeks later he’d be up to his old tricks again and gyp me out of six cups of coffee. I thought he was messing with my mind. I thought he was toying with my emotions and praying on my weakness. But, no. My poor Mr. Coffee was slowing dying all along.
At five o’clock this morning, a morning like any normal morning, I fell out of bed, crashed into the wall, and stumbled down the hall toward the kitchen. Mr. Coffee greeted me with the gentle, green glow of his digital clock face, and I said, ‘Good morning, beautiful,’ in return. I smiled and gave him a little wink as I filled the carafe with water and poured it into his belly. He let out a little burp and I laughed as I lined his basket with a fresh filter and added a healthy scoop of his favorite rich, aromatic grounds. We were having a great morning—the perfect morning—until I pushed ‘On.’
He didn’t respond. 
Not a big deal. It’s happened before. I pushed the button again. This time he came to life, and I smiled and patted him gently, telling him I’d be right back. I went to go do my business while he did his business, but before I could leave the room, he sputtered and coughed. Startled, I turned back to him. He let out seven, pained beeps and sputtered some more. A deep, guttural growl came out of his underbelly, and he shut down completely. I gave him a little glare for being stubborn, and he looked back at me with his sad, green glow. I rolled my eyes at his pouty face, and we tried it again. 
Two minutes of sputtering, steaming and coughing later, only six, measly drops of coffee had managed to drip into the carafe. I was livid, and I let that coffee maker know it! Knowing what I know now, I am too ashamed to admit what I called him, but let’s just say it wasn’t very ladylike. Mr. Coffee sputtered and steamed, and squirted out two more drops of coffee (probably out of pure terror)… and then he died.  
Selfish person that I am, I was only worried about myself in that moment. The air disappeared from my lungs and I started to shake. Panic set in as I seriously started jonesing for my caffeine fix. My mind raced, my heart palpitated, and I walked in crazed circles, muttering to myself, as I tried to figure out what the hell I was supposed to do now.
‘I could go to the gas station… it’s only ten miles away and they probably won’t mind if I’m still in my pj’s… but their coffee sucks and I would have to buy like six cups to get me through the morning, and I don’t have that many hands… I could wait two more hours until the hardware store opens at seven and buy a new maker, but two hours? That’s like an eternity… Walmart’s open twenty-four hours a day and I’ve seen tons of people there in their pj’s! YES! But, wait… it’s thirty miles away… that’s a long drive without coffee to help get me there… What to do, what to do, what to do?’
And then I remembered—I have a four-cup maker in the basement! (Cue the sunshine! Ahhh!) Happy days are here again…. It took me a good twenty minutes of cursing and digging to find that old, four-cup maker, but eventually I did, and I was well on my way to caffeinated bliss. 
Once my own needs were filled, I lovingly washed my Mr. Coffee one last time and gently set him in an out-of-the-way corner of the garage. Maybe one day, if my husband is bored, he can do an autopsy to determine the cause of death. It’s possible he can be revived to brew another day, but, more than likely, Mr. Coffee will spend eternity in the Butler County Landfill, resting peacefully on the hill overlooking the countryside, buried somewhere near my Rival Crockpot that bit the dust last fall. 
There’s a brand-new coffee maker sitting prominently in his place on my counter now. His name is Black and Decker. We met earlier this afternoon at True Value and I invited him to come live with me. He’s very pretty, but he’s no Mr. Coffee. Not even close. He won’t let me select my brew strength or adjust the temperature of the warmer. He doesn’t filter my water or greet me with the soft, green glow of a digital display, gently reminding me how many minutes I have left until automatic shut-off. He doesn’t even have a cleaning feature. But he does make a full pot of coffee in less than two minutes, so that’s something, I guess.
Maybe one day we will be as good of friends as Mr. Coffee and I were, but I’m not ready to rush into anything just yet. For right now, I think we’ll take it one pot of coffee at time and see how things go.
Rest in peace, Mr. Coffee. You will be missed, my friend.

7 Responses to “Goodbye, My Friend”

  1. Bailey Bristol August 14, 2011 at 7:24 pm #

    An absolute riot, Donna! Everyone should start their week with your blog. It's a hoot and a half!

  2. Brandon Duncan November 4, 2011 at 9:15 am #

    Donna, you are HILARIOUS! I laughed all the way through this. So glad you made your way over to Story Dam! I think you will be pleasantly surprised with a couple of the prompts, and I can't wait to see what else you bring to the table.Talk to you soon!

  3. Christine Warner November 4, 2011 at 9:37 am #

    I came upon this party late…but glad I found you! Loved it…thanks for the laugh!

  4. November 4, 2011 at 12:52 pm #

    Okay, I think you are now my new favorite writer. This is brilliant. Sadly I know I am about to experience a similar loss from my CD player as he too is at death's door.

  5. Brandi November 4, 2011 at 2:01 pm #

    Loved it! Reminds me of the relationship that my brewer and I are having at the moment. I think I'm going to go ahead and have it's replacement ready in case it does decided to give up on me. I know the words and phrases I would utter that early in the morning would not be good,and I have a feeling the hair loss I would suffer could not be fixed by my beautician. Thanks for linking up with Story Dam 🙂

  6. November 4, 2011 at 10:13 pm #

    Absolutely funny. My coffee pot friend left me a few months ago. so sad. I have to say great minds must thin alike. My profile says something very similar to yours. I love the comfort of it all.

  7. rayyanek November 8, 2011 at 1:06 pm #

    Very creative Donna and a nice read that had me chuckling. But it was a bit sad as well as it reminded me of the mortality of my own coffee maker.Really looking forward to reading more of your stuff at the Dam and it was a pleasure to meet you!

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