I've Never Had a Coffee

I’ve never had a cup of coffee.

I’ll just leave that sentence there so you can absorb it for a second.

“Wait, what? But… Why not?”

I dunno. Well, I do, but I don’t. It’s just coffee.

I met a girl who was about 12 years old the other year who hadn’t had a pie. Ever. But, she was originally from another country so I guess it wasn’t the done thing there.

Then there was the time one of my friends' daughters, she was about 9 years old at the time, went shopping with us. She’d never been on an escalator. We took her up and down on one and made it into such a fun time for her that she giggled in glee after a few unsteady seconds. Her local shops had one, but they had always walked in and never needed to go up it before. Maybe her mum had a phobia she didn’t talk about? For some reason or another the girl had just never been on it.

I guess lots of people have not experienced things before, however coffee has been around me all my life, first in the instant capacity, then as my parents went out for coffee more often as it became ‘the thing to do', now every town that sells anything of any value also sells coffee, in one form or another. Whole economies seem to be built upon the coffee trade.

I’ve had three small sips from mum’s Nescafe instant when I was little. Does that count? Blergh. Tasted hideous.

I’ve got a bit of a stubborn streak. Always have. Mum rolled her eyes, pursed her lips and said I was, ’Just like my father’. Sometimes, I just dig in my heels, but only if I have a reason.

There’s always been a fairly strong moral compass in me, often fixating over odd little things. I think it comes from reading often and early as a child. Having sisters 7 and 8 years older than me doing the ‘next age group thang,’ and being given much time alone when I was little, gave me time to read, daydream and think; a lot.

When I didn’t have access to a book I liked to people-watch. People watching is like reading but without the pages. They scurry, they fawn, they preen. They watch each other and like to fit in. They show greed, desire, unsurety, exuberance, and clumsiness. They want others to envy them. They show care and tenderness. They are brutal. They ignore poverty. They get addicted.

I wasn’t the most focused person growing up. I daydreamed often and was told off in school for it. I wasn’t ‘present’ when sitting in groups of friends and missed what they said while I was off in my own little world, (sorry!) But I did have a strong view on my own little conceptions I had formed of right and wrong. Odd things sometimes as well as larger issues. I didn’t like the culturally accepted idea of getting ears pierced as it was putting a hole in skin that didn’t need to be there. I didn’t like doing what others were doing just because others did it. I had quite strong views on misogynism before I even knew what the word for it was. I still have to look up how to spell it…

I didn’t want to be addicted. My mum's side of the family were Australian since May in 1849, but identified still as Irish-English Catholics. They bred like rabbits. From my playpen I watched them all drinking coffee and needing coffee to wake up. From my pushchair they scurried to get home and get coffee. From my seat at the aunties' tables, they talked about coffee. From my trips to visit the aunties as I grew older and they grew older still, they had more coffee - but now it had fancy aerated milk on top. I think I just didn’t want to jump on that wheel.

The trouble is, as you get older people meet at coffee shops. You need to have ‘something’ to fit in and somehow a cup, mug or glass of a beverage costing $4 - $7 is what is needed to be able to have a conversation with an adult. I broke my moral compass. I eventually wanted to fit in. I jumped on my own wheel. Hot chocolate. I love it. It releases the dopamines and gives me the good vibes. Trouble is, it’s been my addiction. I have to buy a low-calorie hot chocolate now that I’m counting calories. I even see it as ‘waking me up’ in the morning, just like the aunties. I’ve just swapped one for the other.

I should have been more, me. “Hey, nah - I don’t want to go to a coffee shop, can we go to a playground and go on the slide?”

It doesn’t go down well with other adults though usually. A bit of a side look as if to say “How’s the mental health girl?”

And before you ask, no; I also don’t have any alcohol. Similar vibe. Don't get me wrong; go ahead, it if it suits you - I just don't want to have to, to be normal.

I’m still having my hot chocolates, but I’ve established my own little self imposed moral rules about them. I take my own ceramic mug and get a take-away one, twice a week from the market I work at. Local vendors, supporting local trade. I sit back and really enjoy it. I don’t want guilt in my life. I have a hot chocolate or a banana and cocoa smoothie each day at home, but I now keep it to one, most of the time.

I wonder also, what would I be like on coffee? I’m pretty hyped up when I’m not painting or writing. I’m socially an energizer bunny - I’ve got a social on or off switch and when it’s on I’m buzzing already. If it’s off, just don’t come near, please.

I don’t think you should really give someone like me coffee, but I’m cool with it if you want some. Can we just maybe go walk in a forest or go on a slide afterward?