“Mmmmmmm, good coffee.”
You can hear this quite a bit if you’re waking up with Sex Fairy and Whitman. It’s always good when he makes it. It’s only good sometimes when I make it… if I’m in my own space, with my own coffee maker. I realized tonight as I was setting up the coffee maker just what makes “good coffee.” It’s strong. Really strong. We might like it creamy (and in my case, sweet) but underneath it’s dark. SO DARK.
(Wow. Just like our sex!! Too obvious? har har.)
Then I started thinking back to an earlier time in our relationship…As he was cooking, Whitman asked me if I liked dark meat or white meat chicken, then said, “but I think I know the answer.” He assumed I like dark meat. He was wrong. I like white meat. I’ll admit it. I’m a breast girl. I think he was afraid I’d try to horn in on his fave, the dark meat.
(This is just another way we’re perfectly complimentary, in case you hadn’t noticed. We can share a chicken.)
He was basing his assumption on what he’d noticed about my taste: I like sour juice, bitter greens, gamey meat, very salty salt, etc., etc., etc… Other than chicken, it’s safe to say that I like my food and drink much like I like my men…strong, assertive, bold, and dare I say it…rich?