Before going to Seattle for the summer
(Read all about it at:-www.letterfromseattle.blogspot.com)
I reread Raymond Chandler's - The Long Goodbye, and this passage caught my eye.
"I went out to the kitchen to make coffee – yards of coffee. Rich, strong, bitter, boiling hot, ruthless, depraved. The life blood of tired men," I particularly like his adjective choice in depraved.
I haven't had a coffee since returning Monday night; my system was already too scrambled by jetlag to risk further confusion. Whilst in Seattle I was successful in my personal boycott of all things Starbuck but I was disappointed on the plane to read the following account of coffee grind espionage.
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