The American Scholar

English 5599 - Creative Writing For Teachers

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You stand there waiting and think, What will it be today? Dark? Medium? Light?

It really doesn't matter so long as the barista keeps it pure. None of that sissy stuff.

Give me anything high tested, you say to yourself. Make me jitter until I can't concentrate on anything.

You fancy the bitter white alkaloid shooting through your central nervous system. It's for mental alertness, you say. For stamina. Good for the digestion. You hear it also decreases the risk of gallstones. Who likes gallstones?

You stand there waiting and think, Give it to me strong. A Ristretto. No, make it a Doppio. After all, a Lungo is a good waste of a bowl. The stronger it is the more anti-oxidants. Lowers the risk of bowel cancer, they say. Boosts stamina, brain function. Heightens pain relief. Imagine that. You can take it with Advil. Take two with Joe and call me in the morning.

Speaking of doctors.

Funny the faces people make as they doctor theirs. Contaminate theirs. A little sugar, a sip, then a grimace. A little more sugar. Or cream. Another funny face.

Why pollute it?

Even the guy behind the counter offers to mess it up. Steamed milk. Froth. Chocolate. I'll be damned if some places don't even offer it with whiskey.

Why mess with perfection?

You stand there and it's your turn. You're pissed. All these Dandesoycino drinkers and other vegan hounds have impaired your disposition.

"What will it be today," she says.

"Coffee. Black."

The drastic revision you just read came from one of the observations in my journal. I told you guys before that I spend quite a lot of time at the java joint. I thought it might be fun to enlarge this observation and throw in a bunch of coffee jargon. If you are unfamiliar with coffee, a proper response to this piece would be, "Huh?" Here is the original observation, written on the first week of our semester.

"It's funny the faces people make as they are doctoring their coffee at the sugar/cream table at Roasters. One will add a little sugar, give it a taste, grimace, and add more. Another will add some cream or half & half, sip, lick their lips contentedly, then add sugar. I can't figure out why so many people want to mess with perfection, but they do. Roasters coffee is best when it's black."

I appreciate Bishops' chapter on revision. I used to think of pencil and paper (or word processor and keyboard) as the materials to create a work of art, like clay. Now I see a rough draft more like the clay. The draft is something tangible to mold.