I like Cuban Coffee. I like it quite a bit in fact. Last night at the “Cuban Lady's House” (in Miami that would be very vague but in Celina it's strangely specific) I was offered a cup. Then I was offered another one. Because I have issues saying “no” to people and enjoy this rocket fuel of a drink I happily drank my shots and really felt like I could have had a couple more. This morning we stopped by her house again to pick up a loaf of “Monkey Bread” and she offered me some more of this drink which has apparently become my equivalent of catnip. Attributing my heartburn last night to the 990 Calories of Little Debbie Oatmeal Crème Pies, I took the cup and happily drank it down. As we were about to leave the CL asked if I want to take some cafe with me. Wide eyed and intrigued I asked “You can do that?” curious as to how I would carry a coffee shot cup in the car without spilling.
“Well I'll put it in a thermos”.
Because I'm stupid I said okay.
So she made another batch and poured all of it in a Thermos. It was then I realized this lady is not nice, she's an enabler. I had about 16 oz in that cup. I finished it all before we hit Cookeville which is about 40 minutes away, stopping halfway to reapply antiperspirant. And now I sit here driving the wonderful curves of Tennessee feeling the acid I've consumed burning its way down and hoping that before we hit the “Vortex Bar and Grill” I can find someone to pump my stomach.
LMAO
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