Babbles of a Lover and a Fighter

I’ve never really taken to hot beverages.  I’m usually up for something crisp and icy to quench my thirst.  This past week, however, I caught some bug or allergy or something in Dallas, and hot tea just sounded amazing.  The restaurant/bar where I work has a Starbucks right next door, so I decided to roll the dice and try something new.  The Zen green tea is pretty fantastic, although it took me awhile to actually get a first sip.

I took off the lid to blow on it and slowly tipped the cup, bringing a heatwave of steam that cooked my upper lip and plowed through my suddenly clear sinuses.  The same process happened about two or three times before I surrendered my attempts and just let the cup chill out with my sore throat remedy brewing.  I had to check on a couple of tables, and the minutes ticked by.  By the time I tentatively tried my tea again, it was perfect.  No more scalding, boiling hot lava water leaving third degree burns on my tongue.  But then, duty called, and the next time I visited my cup, I was welcomed with a lukewarm, ineffective, unsatisfying, grande cup of blah.

There is a minuscule window in which one can enjoy a hot beverage without either incinerating one’s entire mouth and throat or forcing down room-temperature, not-even-remotely-soothing liquid.  In a Starbucks paper cup, that window is probably about 4 minutes.  Maybe next time when it reaches that perfect point, I should just down it.  I might still lose some of my taste buds getting there though.  Oh, hot beverages.  Why must you hurt me so?