I have a confession to make: I was sent two boxes of in July to share with the office and I didn’t tell a soul. All summer, I’ve kept my stash a secret. I’ve successfully hoarded all 36 servings of the stuff.
It’s not because I’m a coffee snob. I’d almost just as happily be drinking servings of Allsups gas station brew (look ‘em up, they’re a New Mexico thing). Sometimes, and especially when you’re editing stories until midnight, coffee is coffee.
It’s not because I’m selfish, either. I don’t hoard gear—unless we’re talking about the Cannondale Slate that online associate gear editor Jakob Schiller “loaned” me back in May (it’s safely stashed in my bedroom). I hardly ever review products for the site or magazine. I want other folks here to have the opportunity to test out the latest and greatest. Usually.
My psychologist, I’m guessing, would probably have a very convincing explanation for why I failed to share even a drop of coffee from the 32-serving , which was clearly created for conference rooms. But I haven’t brought it up with him.
To be entirely honest, I would never have brought this up if Chameleon Cold Brew’s public relations firm hadn’t reminded me of National Coffee Day (September 29). I re-evaluated. I finally admitted to myself that at this point, I think I can even detect the claimed notes of cocoa and toffee. So here I am: admitting to several million readers—along with a soon-to-be-very-angry office—that I hoarded the best coffee I’ve ever tasted.