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Coffee Can Kill (When It Spills)

Overall, coffee brings immense joy to my life. Other than taking out a second mortgage to support my habit, it is pretty much a match made in heaven. Oh yeah, that caffeine debt thing and the need for an extra room to accommodate my frappuccino butt. But other than that, it is a love that I have felt for no other.

Except for my family, of course. Yeah, my family.

But my Barista is family too. She once gave me a Christmas card. I have a pleasant personality and all, but you have to visit A LOT for her to address your envelope with your real name and not CMFRAP WC W/DRIZZ!

But I digress.

Every time I stand in line at Starbucks, I get a flutter in my heart that tells me that pure, unadulterated joy is just a moment away. When my Barista passes me my java, I blow kisses at the frosty wonderfulness in my hand. But there have been two separate occasions in my life that coffee has made me want to resort to a criminal level of violence.

It was a lovely spring morning in 1996. I was working in a difficult position at Dante's Inferno and the only thing that prompted me to get up in the morning was a stop at the coffee shop near work. So every single morning, I would stop by for a "cup o' will to live" and a blueberry muffin the size of Rhode Island.

On this particular morning in the parking lot at work, I got out of the car with coffee in one hand and muffin in the other. I noticed a man in a car trying to park next to me.

Seeing that my open door was impeding his passage, I attempted to hasten my exit. But, to my dismay, he was practicing that passive-aggressive, nudge-nudge, "MOVE YOUR BUTT NOW" push with his car. In the confusion and building panic of the moment, I watched in horror as my untouched coffee slipped from my hand and dropped to the ground.

Watching that liquid gold spread out on the asphalt, I felt RAGE bubble from the bottom of my gut through the top of my blown-off skull. It took every bit of self-restraint not to drag the guy from his car and pull out his hair in patches.

The second time was in the parking lot of Target. I'd just finished a grueling round of grocery shopping and had loaded all the provisions into the trunk. I had my Venti in the shopping cart seat, awaiting consumption on the trip home.

Since it was frigid (like totally less than 60 degrees) and all I had on was a thin sweater, I decided to push my cart up on a curb instead of returning it to a corral. As I forcefully "bumped" it up onto the curb, I watched in horror (AGAIN) as my untouched (AGAIN) coffee launched up into the air, flew like Superman over the cart handle, and bounced onto the ground with a sickening THUD. A stiff breeze brought to my attention that brown goop now covered my pants.

AGAIN, I felt RAGE bubble from the bottom of my gut up through the top of my blown-off skull, but this time for the laziest imbecile I'd ever encountered... me. I heartily fought against the dual urges of dropping to the ground to lick up the mess or weep on my knees while yelling, "Why God? Why me?"

Instead, I returned home defeated and empty, but it wasn't a total loss. The dogs enjoyed licking sugar from my trousers for the rest of the night. I'm pretty sure I spotted the glint of Starbuck's love in their eyes.

Does anyone want to start a 12-step program for coffee addiction? Yeah, me neither!

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Linda DiRubbio
Linda DiRubbio
Oct 08, 2021


Replying to

Linda! That gif is a crime against humanity!!!! That breaks my heart to watch it! 🤪


Sarah Girkadirk
Sarah Girkadirk
Aug 26, 2021

I laughed so hard reading this! I can't count how many times I've lost a cup of java as a result of an unforesen consequence of multi-tasking and/or juggling too many things at one time.


Aug 25, 2021

Sad and hysterical all at the same time. Please don't kick me outta here but I am not a fan of the Java. I love the smell of coffee in all its forms; from opening a can, like we did in the old days when I used to make it for my mom, to the smell of it brewing, I just don't like the taste. I can't even do coffee flavored things like ice cream. I'm sorry.

BUT, I can relate to your story because I too have my obsessions and food related rage.

I am obsessed with Coke. I love the bubbly, fizzy, sweet nectar and while I would love to have it all day, every day I try…

Replying to

Oh Lisa! I’m still processing that you don’t love coffee! I thought we were twins separated at birth! Oh the humanity!

I love the stories though and they sound too familiar. So I forgive you! JK! You are quite the storyteller! Thanks for the laugh! I know these incidents leave me completely inconsolable. Possibly for days.

But we keep marching on because we are survivors like that! ❤️🤪

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