Growing up Coffee

When most kids were begging their parents for chocolate milk, I was begging mine for coffee milk. I used to find it so fascinating that I could eat the beans. My parents didn’t necessarily want me to eat them, but I would give myself a running head start so by the time they caught up to me, I had already popped a few beans into my mouth. I used to pretend they were candies. Maybe that's where my heart murmur came from?... Some might think this is dangerous for a young girl, but I like to think that it was fun, and also I had so much energy! This might seem a bit strange. You might be thinking, how did a girl this age get her hands on all this coffee? And if you're not, then, now you probably are since I just asked myself that question. Well, that is what happens when your parents decide to start a coffee business. I grew up in coffee. I became a coffee connoisseur at the ripe age of 7, a coffee snob by 18, and now most recently, a coffee know-it-all by 24.

I used to think that I would have nothing to do with the coffee business except to drink it. I’m afraid to admit that I thought I was above it. But then life throws things at you and you realize that you could potentially be a barista forever. I started at 14 and no matter what other job I had, I would always come back to being a barista. Maybe it was the family connection, maybe it was my coffee addiction, but nonetheless, 9 years later I am still here. No matter how hard I tried to get away from it, I keep finding myself right back in the caffé working behind the counter. So until that “real” job comes along, I refer to my current position as “research”. Research for the book I will eventually write (even if my piñata is the only thing that reads it). And research for finding my future husband.

I am fortunate enough (tinged with sarcasm) to work in a wonderful location for meeting people (code for great stories). Everyday at work is a new adventure. I see hundreds of people come and go. My friends with office jobs hang around normal people and do normal things all day. I, on the other hand, meet mostly not normal people, and am told what to make on a daily basis by people who don’t even know what they are talking about. Some days I get mostly businessmen, other days tourists, and on my best days, the homeless decide to come in.