I am exactly that – spoiled rotten. This is entirely my husband’s fault and all complaints should go to his call center at 1-800-NOTLIKELY. (That’s a joke. Don’t call.)
In his defense, he was trained by his equally spoiling father, who lived with us for a couple of years at the end of his life (and that of my mother-in-law). The grooming begins with a simple thing – coffee.
When Rick and I started dating … in (gulp) 1977 … coffee was intrinsic in our relationship. When we first met, the discussion was about him fetching me a cup of coffee. I had to return to my workstation at the Travelers Insurance Company and he did too, but I was a clerk and he was a Senior Underwriter, so he had some flexibility.
Without knowing each other’s names, he offered to bring me coffee. In doing so (he dropped it off at a friend’s desk) I was able to arrange my squad to check him out. Was he married? (no) Girlfriend? (no) Where did he work? (Group Department – one floor down)
He passed this evaluation (and I got free coffee), but one of my friends said she didn’t like him. I asked why. “Whenever I get on an elevator with him, I feel like he can see me with my clothes off,” she replied.
Just to be clear, she meant that as a bad thing …
Whenever we were at his parents’ house (which we were on our second date) there was always fresh coffee – frequently made by his father, Emmanuel. He would always bring his wife a cup of coffee, prepared to her liking – cream and sugar (or “regular” as we Yankees call it). Like yours truly, this had to be done JUST SO or it would be deemed undrinkable.
Too light, too dark, too sweet, not sweet enough – Goldilocks would have a breakdown trying to get this right.
I found this a charming thing between my in-laws. It was especially appealing to me probably because it was a kind of doting attention that I’d not seen between my parents, whose marriage had ended in divorce shortly before I met Rick.
In any case, this was a standard of behavior for Rick and his father, like holding a door open or extending an elbow for the lady to hold while walking together. Done so consistently, it was rote. Reflex. Also true is that when I’ve been out of the house for a while attending meetings or whatever, I often return to the smell of fresh brewing coffee. There’s a reason real estate agents recommend that you brew coffee before showing your house – that smell is associated with warmth and home.
Part of my being spoiled is in the construction of my particular cup of coffee. Some sweetener (no sugar for me) and cream (half & half). Should we run out of half & half, it’s DEFCON 1. Red Alert.
This year’s anniversary (our 44th) brought an unexpected gift: a temperature-controlled coffee cup. Of course, there’s an app with that. From my smartphone, I can set the temperature of my cup. Default is 132˚. Not sure where my “perfect” zone is, but I’ll work hard to find it. I also think this might be an excellent way to enjoy clam chowder. I’ll let you know.
We’re approaching Valentine’s Day … what do you do to spoil your bestie? Shoot out some tweets with #thisjustin. I need some great ideas!
Jean Bolduc is a freelance writer and the host of the Weekend Watercooler on 97.9 The Hill. She is the author of “African Americans of Durham & Orange Counties: An Oral History” (History Press, 2016) and has served on Orange County’s Human Relations Commission, The Alliance of AIDS Services-Carolina, the Orange County Housing Authority Board of Commissioners, and the Orange County Schools’ Equity Task Force. She was a featured columnist and reporter for the Chapel Hill Herald and the News & Observer.
Readers can reach Jean via email – jean@penandinc.com and via Twitter @JeanBolduc
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