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stoutfellowWhen I was an undergraduate, back in the Carter administration, I had a roommate who absolutely required his coffee. He had one of those one-cup cone filters, and had the usual sort of ritual people with one-cup cone filters have. (I have since been inducted into that fraternity, so I know whereof I speak.)
On one particular morning, I was sitting at the breakfast table as he assembled his coffee. Unfortunately, he had boiled too much water, and the cup overflowed, badly, all over the table. In exasperation, he mopped the table, removed the cone filter from the cup (setting it on the table), emptied the cup, removed the used filter from the cone, replaced it and added more grounds, and boiled more water. I watched in fascination as he poured the water into the cone filter.
The attentive reader will have noticed that I made no mention of his putting the cone filter back on the cup. This is because he had not done so.
In the years since, I have, from time to time, recalled that incident and grinned to myself. (I think I should probably mention that I, too, was guilty of more than one giggleworthy incident during that year.) I'm afraid, though, that I have today forfeited the right to grin about it any more. Without going into details, I will say that it involved peach preserves and a slice of bread. (Murphy and Ben were pleased with the results, though.)
On one particular morning, I was sitting at the breakfast table as he assembled his coffee. Unfortunately, he had boiled too much water, and the cup overflowed, badly, all over the table. In exasperation, he mopped the table, removed the cone filter from the cup (setting it on the table), emptied the cup, removed the used filter from the cone, replaced it and added more grounds, and boiled more water. I watched in fascination as he poured the water into the cone filter.
The attentive reader will have noticed that I made no mention of his putting the cone filter back on the cup. This is because he had not done so.
In the years since, I have, from time to time, recalled that incident and grinned to myself. (I think I should probably mention that I, too, was guilty of more than one giggleworthy incident during that year.) I'm afraid, though, that I have today forfeited the right to grin about it any more. Without going into details, I will say that it involved peach preserves and a slice of bread. (Murphy and Ben were pleased with the results, though.)
