Today, for the first time in almost a year, I returned to one of my favorite writing holes; Sugar House Coffee in Salt Lake City. I was there meeting up with an old writing buddy who I had not seen in a long time. Naturally with so much catching up to do we didn’t get much writing done, which was not helped by me forgetting to copy the latest version of Dead Beat to my laptop (oops). Being fine purveyors of caffeinated beverages I decided to see if they had anything new on their menu. And there it was; The Cuban Revolver. The six espresso shot demon that would become my undoing. It all started with a harmless comment on Twitter:
“OMG I just notice they have something here called a Cuban Revolver. 6 shots of espresso in that bad boy :D. Dare I try it?”
Those last four words followed by a question mark, that’s where I made my first mistake. I didn’t really expect a response but I got one anyway from friend and fellow writer @winnie3k (who you should all start following right now). Her response:
“For all of our sakes, YES, drink the Cuban Revolver! I want a full report, please!”
Well being a true British gentleman I could hardly turn down such a heartfelt request now could I?!
So off I go to order my 16 oz Cuban Revolver. While it was being made I was talking with my barista. General conversation; You know, the creative atmosphere, how the area was loosing it’s bohemian charm, the dangers of Wal-Mart, that short of thing. While we spoke she mentioned that she had once tried this demonic drink herself. “I ended up awake until 4 in the morning” she said, a wicked glint in her eye.
No upon hearing this you would think that I would have had second thoughts right? Well no not me.
Because I’m an idiot. There, I said it.
Anyway, back to the story. My prize in hand I returned to the table. Over the course of the next half hour I slowly nursed the Cuban, the whole time blissfully unaware of the witchcraft that was coursing it’s way through my veins. I didn’t really feel the effects until a little while later. I noticed a little shaking and a sudden alertness to everything around me. It was not long before a certain degree of paranoia started to make itself at home (did you hear that?). This is not a pleasant feeling and certainly not conducive to a creative atmosphere. The live folk band wasn’t helping too much either. (My day really has been one big cliché hasn’t it?). By the time I arrive home I am in full temperamental, paranoid writer mode (how long has that van been there?). I’ve been trying every remedy I can think off…short of fresh air and exercise of course.
Well things are finally starting to settle down now. Now being several hours later with the lights turned out (if I leave them on, THEY will know I’m here). It was great coffee though. And for those of you with stronger coffee handling skills than me, the Cuban Revolver is a worthy opponent. Nice to catch up with an old friend as well. However I think I’ll be sticking to the Shar-gra-lattes from now on