This Made My Day
I don't remember how I discovered a Black Eye, but it was news that I could add a shot of Espresso to my black coffee at Starbucks.
Well, if I can have one, why not two?
It turns out that drink was called the Red Eye.
The Red Eye was my limit. Then, I started seeing into the Other Side, and it started freaking me out.
My usual drink of choice is unsweetened tea. My dad was a big fan of sweet tea. Dad was famous for his sweet tea. He had a particular, exact way of making his tea.
Dad shared his recipe with me with instructions on how long to boil the water to add the thirty-seven packets of Stevia (it had to be Stevia). Doctors said that Dad had cirrhosis of the liver when he died but hadn't been a heavy drinker in years—just saying.
It wasn't until I went to Carnivore that I fully embraced drinking unsweet tea. Depending on who makes it, it seems to work out. It's better than drinking only water.
One afternoon, Lucy needed a little pick-me-up from Starbucks. So I ordered her drink, and then my friend's daughter, who happened to be working at that Starbucks, came on the intercom, saying, "Hey, Medina," she said and then warned the order taker to watch out for me because I was crazy.
Crap, challenge excepted.
So I ordered what I thought was the craziest drink I could think of at the time.
So I ordered a Trenta Unsweet Black Tea with two shots of Espresso.
"I'm sorry, a what," the girl at Starbucks said.
A little unsure now, I repeated my order.
When we drove up to the window, my friend's daughter said our hellos and I was handed my first Trenta Black Tea with Two Shots of Expresso.
Now, it was late in the day, and if I drank any sort of caffeine, I'd be up till dawn the next day. I took a quick sip, and yes, it was bitter, but not too bad. I didn't finish the drink.
A couple of weeks later, Lucy and I were going to spend the day in San Antonio. Driving down there, I realized I was dog-tired, but it was too late in the morning for coffee. For some reason, I don't like drinking coffee after eleven.
But I know drinking tea isn't going to be enough.
So I pull over at the next Starbucks and order my Black Tea/Expresso drink.
The cashier doesn't bat an eye, though she has to figure out a way to ring it up. It's the drink maker that gives the little receipt a befuddled look. This is strange because they make all kinds of drinks at Starbucks, and my drink was the line.
It turns out it is.
Tonight I pitched my drink to my friend John, who used to work at Starbucks, and he was taken aback by my drink order as all the other Starbuck workers were when I ordered it.
It's just two different drinks, he said.
"It's like going to Krispy Kreme and ordering a jelly-filled donut with refried beans," he said.
Seeing him process my drink and its implications made me happy. I keep thinking of all the times I've ordered it and Starbuck employees having John's reception, "what the hell?"
Except he didn't say hell. What he said rhymes with muck.