The perks

One of the things I learned early on in this life as a Cosgriff was: keep the coffee on. There oughta be a pot on the stove at all times.

In this age of everything instantly that isn't so much of a concern. What with Keurigs and timed drip coffeemakers and all, do we really need to keep the coffee on? It's always right at our fingertips, eh?

True dat. Still, to a perculatin' coffee meister such as meself, it ain't the same. There needs to be a pot on the stove with coffee ready right now. A thirty second wait for your Keurig simply won't do. I must be able to pour a cup right now, this instant. That's how it's supposed to work.

I remember well taking my turn making a pot of coffee at me Grandpa Joe's by the time I was about 12. There were two pots on his stove and when the first one was empty there had to be a second got going right now. It's how things were supposed to be. It's what made the world right.

To this day, or more properly since the day I began keeping only one pot of coffee at a time on my stove, part of me has felt as though I were violating a commandment. Only one? What about the cup needed ten cups from now?

I'm learning to live with it though. But it does go against my grain.

Jealous percolators

I did something I never thought I'd do. I bought a Keurig. You know, one of those one cup at a time coffee makers. It was second hand, from a flea market. Fifteen bucks. I figured I'd use it at the Shop. The thing is though, I've always brewed my coffee. I even only use a drip coffee maker when I'm up north, and only because it's what we've got there. My percolator never knew. But she knows about the Keurig. Even I feel like I'm cheating on her, the coffee pot I've used at home for almost 38 years now.

I think she thinks I'm cheating on her too. When I took the Keurig into the kitchen for a thorough cleaning before use, I swear I heard an 'a-hem'.

"It, it's only for the Shop," I explained, stammering. Still, I felt the icy, cold stare.

"We don't have a stove at the Shop." That defense, I am not making this up, was met by an accusatory raised eyebrow.

I tried further, "Oh, you don't want to be in that dirty old workshop anyway." She was unconvinced, and seemed to grow colder. More distant.

"Look, you'll always be the one for me. I just had to try something different. Just for work." That certainly didn't have the hoped for effect.

So now I lay awake nights fearing reprisal. Percolators aren't actually jealous sorts. Are they?