“What was Joe’s first word?”
Mom says, “I don’t remember what it was.”
I grab the phone, “Mom, it was coffee, remember? You told me this a while ago!”
As it was clear I was disgruntled, she said “Joey, (she calls me Joey sometimes) I don’t think it was coffee, I could be wrong.”
“Mom, you told me it was coffee ok, so for future reference when I have someone call you and ask what my first word was, it was coffee, ok?”
I hung up the phone in disbelief and continued to tell my friend that my mom said she remembered all the sudden. The ploy was unsuccessful.
My parents must have had a hidden agenda while raising me. I was named Joe. Joe means coffee: “cup of joe” and so on. My last name is Consentino, very similar to cappuccino. It even rhymes.
Interest in coffee began early for me. I attended school for my early years, of course. When I turned 16 all that learning had become boring, so I started working at cafés’ and coffee roasteries. I was mystified by the steaming, shiny machine on the counter, which I wasn’t allowed to touch until I was trained. I am still mystified. I find myself staring at the milk as it cyclones in the pitcher. Its velvet texture, shiny when I swirl it, touches the espresso. It mixes with the cocoa and sugar and works itself under and around. I get so much pleasure making drinks for people who are exited to get something special. We try giving people a great experience here in the café, as we do with our online customers. Our coffee rocks. Try it!
Joe
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