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I was talking to someone recently who was in the middle of a long, busy work day, and I said, “Damn, I hope you have a big cup of coffee waiting for you later this afternoon!”
She said that she no longer drank caffeine, and I applauded her for that—I kind of wish I had no caffeine in my life but also don’t really want to get anywhere near that idea in real life. I love a good cup of coffee or Diet Mountain Dew to keep me moving on a slow afternoon.
Then she said something that made my head almost spin off my body. She said, “Once in a while, on a day like this, I will reward myself with a cup of decaf.”
I said, “What do you mean?”
She said, “Well, I’ll just have one cup of decaf coffee as a pick-me-up.”
I just stared at her, completely perplexed.
I said, “But…”
She understood what I meant, that I didn’t get how that was a reward and a pick-me-up. She explained that she liked the taste of coffee more so than the caffeine, so she liked to treat herself to a cup of decaf on days where she is struggling.
I nodded my head and continued in the conversation, but in the back of my head, I kept saying, “What the hell? Who drinks coffee for the taste? What person in the history of the world would ever drink coffee without caffeine in it?”
Within 30 seconds, I remembered that I am a hardcore addict who never understood how anybody could leave half a bottle of beer, or three painkillers in the cabinet, or extinguish a half-smoked cigarette. Of course I thought about the effect of something before the taste of it.
Looking back, I’m not sure I have ever had a nonalcoholic beer, or caffeine-free Coke, or anything else that didn’t have the good stuff in there. So it is—and probably always will be—a complete foreign concept to just enjoy the taste of something, or to see it as a reward without it having a chemical payoff in there.
It’s funny how this idea makes total logical sense on the surface—my friend liked coffee and didn’t want caffeine any more. That’s perfectly reasonable, right? And yet I still cannot wrap my brain completely around the idea of a decaf coffee. I feel like if I was really thirsty and somebody handed me a cup of decaf coffee, I think I would have a hard time getting excited about drinking it.
So for now, you can have your unleaded coffee—I still want the diesel fuel!
This newsletter is a place of joy and laughter about the deadly serious business of sobriety. So, as I will often do, let me close with a joke:
A drunk is leaving a well-stocked lake carrying two buckets of fish and an empty whiskey bottle when the game warden stops him.
“Do you have a license to fish here?” the warden asks.
“No, sir,” the man replies, “these are my pet fish.”
“Pet fish?” the warden exclaims.
“Yes, sir,” the fellow explains. “Every night I take these fish down to the lake and let them swim around for awhile. Then I whistle and they jump back into their buckets, and I take ‘em home.”
“That’s a bunch of hooey!” says the warden. “Fish can’t do that!”
The guy looks at the game warden for a second and says, “Here, I’ll show you.”
“Okay,” says the warden, “I’ve got to see this.”
So they walk back to the edge of the lake, and the man pours the fish into the water. Then he stands back and waits. Several minutes go by, and the warden gets impatient. “Well?” he asks.
“Well what?” replies the drunk.
“When are you going to call them back?” the warden demands.
“Call who back?” asks the man.
“The fish!” says the warden.
“What fish?” says the drunk.
(Credit: AA Grapevine, January 2002, Gini L. from McMinnville, Oregon)
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