Cup of Joe Peet's/Zoka

The world of Peet's has disappeared from The Westification for a few weeks. This makes me sad. I guess it's kind of like when you get a new car. It smells new, it looks new, you show it off to all of your friends, you stay awake at night worrying that birds will poop on it. After a few weeks or months, though, "your new car" just becomes "your car." A part of your life, that you really only comment on in the event that something goes wrong with it. These comments primarily involve curses.



All that to say that Peet's, as much as I love it (which is many muches), is effectively a part of my life now. I know the people there, I know all the best parking spots in the vicinity, I help with the sayings they put on the chalkboard (I cast the deciding vote for "Peet's, Love, and Rock'n'Roll" over "Teas, Love, and Rock'n'Roll"). If I ever lost Peet's, I would probably curse and maybe even cry, but much like an old friend Peet's tends to be appreciated in a quiet sort of way. I spend time, I partake, but mostly without comment.

I have a fear that my Peet's related silence is damaging the brand in some way. Kind of like silence that is a bit deafening. Good news. This week saw some good Peet's experiences, and I hear you saying "Do tell." I shall.

A really great author/guy named Don Miller was at the University this week speaking on a variety of topics. One night my friend Seth, and his band The Sad Accordions, played some music before Don spoke.

I hadn't seen Seth in a long while, and it turns out that Seth had never heard of Peet's Coffee. After convincing myself that we could still be friends, I made a quick run to rectify the situation. I came back with two medium cups of French Roast. [" Our darkest roast. An intense, ebony coffee with pronounced smoky overtones."] Over these two modest cups, we caught back up on life, love, and good music we were listening to. (Or if you will, Peet's Love and Rock'n'Roll.)

Seth kept making weird faces while partaking of his brew, and this hurt me a little inside. It turns out that when Seth claimed he liked coffee that he actually meant to say, "I like milk and sugar with a pinch of coffee." He recognized the quality of the mostly black Peet's though, remarking that this was a good experience for him, and that it would probably put hair on his chest. I commented that, since he already had a hairy chest, it would probably knock the hair off his chest.

These are the things that quality friendships are made of.

Later in the week, as I was waiting for Don to speak with cup of Peet's in hand, I noticed that my friend Drew did not have any Peet's in his hand. We went to rectify the situation (I'm all about rectifying things), and in my love I brought a few other lacking people along (Jessica, Sarah, Tina, Sarah).

While I was there, I had some orders phoned in: 1. A small, decaf, white mocha. 2. A small coffee with a shot of vanilla and whipped cream on the top. I suddenly found myself with a dilemma: I wanted to help my friends out, but in ordering such things I risked shattering all of the black coffee drinking credibility that I'd built up in the previous weeks and months.

That's when Jessica came to the rescue. She volunteered to help me order. She took responsibility for the small, decaf, white mocha; while I took responsibility for the small coffee with a shot of vanilla... and then audibled to her for the with whipped cream addition. Crisis averted. In addition to the help, I found out Jessica drinks her Peet's coffee black.

These are the things that turn new acquaintances into good friends.

Currently, I find myself in Seattle, at this place called Zoka... which this Seattleite, Tim, claims is the best coffee in the world. And while I love Zoka, I could never be in love with Zoka. My reminiscing I think reveals where my true heart lies.