For the love of coffee and red wine.
Tamika Morrison
Cravings keep me calm like a baby being soothe by their pacifier. We all need something, right? I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’m all about A-D-U-L-T-I-N-G. I do that shit every damn day since I was at least 16. Which is why I have cravings.
I didn’t have the luxury of crying and running to mommy and daddy when I had a “boo boo”, my parents always kept it real with me, “suck it up!” they’d say. “Life is tough, it’s not for the weak at heart.” Which is why when I got in my early 20’s, let’s say 22, my favorite mantra was. “When the going gets tough, the tough get going.” Which is why I have cravings.
I ain’t gonna lie. I started drinking regularly around age 16. I think that’s when I became a true adult. I even leased my own car and therefore, my parents really didn’t have the authority anymore to tell me What. To. Do. Out of respect for my mom, did I come home at a decent hour but if I felt like staying the night out, I didn’t feel a need to ask for permission. At best, I called my mom to let her know I wasn’t coming home so she didn’t have to wait up. My dad was married to his first wife by then and our relationship was strained, so he really didn’t matter. Which is why I have cravings.
About those cravings. I developed a palette for wine probably in my mid-twenties with Moscato. That is so not wine. But, to me and my friends, it was and that was followed by Chardonnay and White Zinfindel, which is disgusting to me by the way. That was a natural gateway for me wanting to learn more about wine culture. It’s like when you stop ordering the cocktails at happy hour and start ordering from the wine list, your chakras give off a bourgeoise energy or something. My palate for friends and men changed right around that time too and before I knew it, red wine was my drink of choice. But you gotta know which red is your kind.
There was this one time when I drank pinot noir with a friend on vacation. We had a whole bottle for dinner. While I was indulging, it was theeee best. However, over in the night, I had the worst headache ever! I mean light sensitivity, smell sensitivity, I was even sensitive to my own breathing. I felt like this headache would just kill me and really that would have been okay just to escape the pain. That was over 10 years ago and I have never had another class of pinot noir again. Nope. Now that’s what you call going “cold turkey”.
My red of choice these days is Cabernet Sauvignon. I love the way it feels on my tongue just saying it and when I want to show off just how close we are, I just ask for a “Cab”. I feel so chic! But enough about the wine cravings cuz there’s nothing that gets my day going than a mouth full of warm, velvety, creamy sweet java. I LOVE coffee. Starbucks to be exact. I’m a whole gold card carrying member and I’m also a shareholder, so there.
My love of coffee probably started when I entered corporate America. I think I was the very first member of my family, outside my Aunt Dolly (My Diva Aunt who taught me allll my diva-ness, may she rest in peace) who was an RN, but other than that, yeah, me. So when I saw all the white ladies congregating in the breakroom of the small law office I worked in, I followed the motto of, “When in Rome, do as the Romans do.” and poured my first cup of office coffee. YUCK! There wasn’t enough dry creamer and white sugar to take the bitterness out of that nastiness. Thankfully, I worked in an office building in the bustling downtown district so there were plenty of coffee shops and big box brands like Starbucks to recover from. Dealing with white folks in the Clinton-era as a 20-year-old was like just being told you were finally emancipated. Which is what started my coffee cravings. ‘Cuz if this is what I had to deal with every day - micro and macro aggressions, then yes, I’m going to need more coffee and a damn good cup of it too!
Though I likely get a free Starbucks reward coffee at least once a month, which is kinda like a slow clap, I do enjoy collecting beautiful inspiring coffee cups and holding them in my palms with both hands cupped around it. Like, Every. Morning. And savoring life. What having coffee at a cafe means to me is that I’ve achieved a level of freedom that gives a proverbial middle finger to all the corporate plantations that exist that still likes to keep my people down. I’m an entrepreneur that flirts with the corporate world when I need to. And when I do have to enter those prison doors, because depending on the level of white privilege I’m up against, it’s gonna feel like a prison and I need to either order an Americano or a house coffee with a shot of whatever secret stash of liquid “keep your damn mouth shut.” I have on me. Which is why I have cravings.
Enjoy some of my favorite wine glasses and coffee cups from my Pinterest.