Prison Diary: Prison Coffee

After the set up crew gets the chapel ready (see last week's entry), Joe heads off to get Herb and I some coffee.

I never ask for or request coffee. Joe just really wants to get it for us. It's his way of saying "Thank You for coming." It is always a touching gesture on his part.

How can I describe prison coffee?

I expect many of you would find prison coffee absolutely harrowing to drink. If you have a delicate constitution this drink isn't for you. It's so dark and thick I swear you can stand a spoon upright in it. It's like motor oil. On top of that they throw in a bunch of powered creamer and an obscene amount of sugar. The coffee tastes thick, bitter, burnt and sickly sweet all at the same time. It's really quite something.

Still, I drink it. Joe brings it as a gift, so I drink it.

And over time I've acquired a taste for this concoction. I don't normally take sugar in my coffee, but now, whenever I encounter bad coffee, I'll add powered creamer and lots of sugar. This transforms the bad coffee into a taste I associate with many fond memories.

I used to avoid bad coffee.

Now I just transform it into something worse. A drink I've come to love.