Coffee tales

We Cosgriffs, at least us Detroit and Illinois Cosgriffs, loves our coffee. I actually get the urge double, seeing as me Grandpa Hutchins, me Mom's Dad, loved his coffee too. Anyway, family lore, and by family lore I mean that both me Pops and me Grandpa Joe insists it is true, holds the following tale.
When me Pops was about 5, Joe took him along on a train ride to visit family in Illinois. In Chicago I believe, they had to switch trains. There was a layover of a couple hours, so Joe takes his eldest into a diner at the station to mark the time and grab a bite.
The waitress approached right after they had grabbed a table. Setting down menus, she followed with the typical, "Can I start you boys off with something?"
"Two coffees, one black, one half and half," Joe responds.
As Joe tells it, me very young Pops looks up at him and asks innocently, "Joe, you gonna drink that coffee with cream?"
"Two black coffees," me Grandpa corrected himself to the waitress.
That's knowing how you like your coffee, folks.