I stop at Starbucks most mornings on my way to work. I did today. They always have three coffees available–a medium or mild roast, a bold roast, and decaf. The three selections are scribbled on a chalkboard with brief descriptions. And the descriptions contain words like these: bold, smooth, soft, well-balanced, nutty, herbal, fruity, earthy notes, spicy, sparkling, acidic, light, robust, citrusy. And my favorite: complex.

I don’t know what those mean. I’ve never sensed any nuttiness in coffee. No hints of oranges or mangoes or any other kind of fruit. To me, there are two types of coffee: strong, and not-so-strong. And decaf versions of each. Okay, I should add a third type, the kind grandpa always had sitting on the stove in the farmhouse, a roast which I call Terminal Stomach Radiation. Starbucks has nothing similar, beyond stuffing a handful of Komodo Dragon beans into your mouth.

Life needs to be kept simple pre-coffee. I don’t want to enter Starbucks and be confronted with difficult decisions: “Do I feel like nutty, or smooth? How many earthy notes can I handle today?” Before coffee, I can barely locate my truck in the garage. I just want to say, “Gimme coffee,” and leave. Then, having consumed my morning brew, I’m empowered to make decisions during the rest of the day. Never mind that I usually get decaf. There’s a psychological thing going on which still perks me up, enlivens my senses, as though I’m still mainlining caffeine. Let nothing jeopardize that illusion.

Anyway, I certainly don’t want “complex” coffee first thing in the morning. I want it strong or not-so-strong, and I don’t want to put any further thought into the purchase. Thank you.