Coffee, and why it's still evil

One of my most profound principles is that coffee, of any strength or flavor, is the worlds purest expression of evil.

As an explaination, rewind the clock to about the middle of the first semester of my senior year. I had pulled an all-nighter (again) and was suffering pretty badly because of said lapse in judgement. I walked into the cafeteria and sat down next to this guy:

A couple of things you need to know about Andy, before I continue. For starters, he is a very very cool guy, not to mention the biggest reason I have this affinity for rather girly music.

He is also very sneaky.

On this particular morning, Andy had his usual fare: a large Starbucks coffee of some bizarre flavor or another. I, in my grogginess, slumped into a chair next to him and complained a bit about how dreadfully tired I was.

Now, Andy had been trying for a while to get me hooked on coffee. He would often take me to the Starbucks near the high school and try to convince me to get something other than hot chocolate. Normally, I'd refuse politely and just get something else or wait until he was ready to leave.

In this story, however, we weren't at Starbucks. We were in school, and my mind was incapable of contemplating anything other than "mmeeeerrrrrrrrrrrr".

To be fair, he might have been trying to take pity on me when he offered me some of his coffee. Normally he is very protective of "his" coffee- often to the point of violence, if he thinks it's reasonable.

I think- I THINK- I thanked him for the offer before I took him up on it. I was too tired to resist, and besides, isn't coffee supposed to help keep you awake?

Yes. Yes, it is.

The first fifteen seconds were the best, based on the fragments of the memory left. I took a gulp, choked, made some comment on the flavor, and then...

I'm pretty sure some of the colors I was seeing don't actually exist.

Here's the best analogy I could come up with: imagine of you took a rhino, plugged it into several car batteries, and then locked it a box filled with snakes. Then threw the box out of an airplane at 35,000 feet.

Now tell the rhino to bake you a loaf of bread before it hits the ground. "Fidgety" isn't really the word I'd use to describe what was going on, it was more along the lines of "uncontrolled panic."

I spent the rest of the day feeling like my body was going to get up and run away from me, regardless of what my now-supercharged brain was telling it. Fortunately, that didn't happen, but that didn't stop me from having some sort of consequence- I couldn't sleep the next night.

So for all of you people out there who think that coffee is good for you, just remember: I'd be willing to bet that far fewer people out there are addicted to hot chocolate than that dreadful brew. Just saying.