I thought I was the only one that did this, but my friend drinks her coffee in the shower too. Maybe lots of people do.
I can’t have my coffee soon enough. I can’t function without it. I’m foggy and groggy and weepy and mean.
My husband refuses to talk to me before I’ve had at least a half a cup of joe. I might snap and remind him of every shortcoming he has, like fixing the house with duct tape is not really fixing the house.
I may cry at heartwarming news segments. Like the one about the sweet children from Iceland who save the puffin birds, or the blind man who can cross traffic and ride a bicycle without a cane or dog or anything.
“People are amazing,” I think as tears drop into my cup.
One Christmas, I thought my sister might cry when she received the best present ever: a coffee shower head called Bathe and Brew.
On the box, a picture of a happy woman in a towel drinks coffee beside her shower, a coffee maker shower head fixed to the shower wall.
My sister was elated and then deflated to learn it was only a gag gift. Sadly, shower coffee makers do not exist.
My friend who drinks coffee in the shower has a friend who drinks beer in the shower. I’ve never done this. For starters, I don’t like beer. But mostly I think I’m scarred from a childhood memory.
My dad’s second wife drank one beer every day of her pregnancy. She swore that it increased her milk production.
My dad’s second wife was pretty granola and always doing off-the-wall crunchy stuff, but I’m kind of sure it was just a rationalization to kick her other habits.
I spent that weekend at my dad’s apartment. His second wife called for me from the bathroom.
”Syl, Syl, you gotta come see this. Come in the bathroom,” she said.
I cracked the door a little.
“It’s okay,“ she said. “Open the door.”
Even at nine years old I knew that opening the bathroom door went against my better judgement, but I did it anyway. I opened the door to a very wet and pregnant woman lactating. Waterfalls of a milky substance gushed from her breasts like out-of-control fire hoses.
“Isn’t it miraculous?” she said.
Ew. I thought only cows could do that.
Maybe that’s why I don’t like beer.
Maybe that’s why I will never drink beer in the shower.
Hard liquor in the shower might be fun. I would get happy fast, for sure. I would sing full-voiced and without inhibition: some Aretha Franklin’s “Dr. Feelgood,” maybe.
Most likely I would just get buzzed and forget to wash a body part. Using a razor could become a serious hazard, too, and I would definitely get soap in my eye.
On the plus side, an old woman lived in this house before me, so there’s approximately six trillion safety bars installed in my shower. It’s reassuring to know that I would have so many things to grab onto on my way down.
If you are pressed for time and need to take a speedy shower, may I suggest an energy drink or a Mountain Dew?
Feeling dehydrated and thirsty after a long night’s sleep? What about some Gatorade?
Orange juice is nice, but tastes bitter after you have brushed your teeth, assuming you have brushed your teeth.
Milk just seems wrong (again, the lactating thing).
What about champagne? Why not? Here’s a toast to being clean.
I don’t know of any wine showerers, just wine soakers. People who drink wine like to relax.
You know what no one drinks in the shower?
Nope. It’s good old coffee for me. Warm, comforting, and safe. It curbs my bitchiness and lifts me from my morning stupor.
Here’s to you and your shower coffee, too