If you’re like me, you don’t drink coffee because you think it tastes good, you drink it because of the important medicinal value it holds as a safe, popular drink-product. You like cream n’ sugar? What are you, a fucking toddler? Need a spoonful of sugar to help the medicine go down? What a sacrilege! That’s like mixing heroine with a flu-shot. Keep them separate! If you’re like me, the only thing you mix your coffee with is water. Plain old tap. And just like with my choice of liquid, the brand of coffee I buy is plain and penny-pinching, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like a little variety, now does it? Variety is the spice of life, they say, And I’ve been heaving for a little spice in my life. So what do I do? I take a chance — I take a little plunge into the lake uncertainty and buy some coffee of a different brand of my liking. What is my liking, you ask? Folgers. Why? Because they’re a good, quality brand that’s humble. They know they’re not the best tasting brand, and they acknowledge it. They also, more importantly understand what coffee really is. Medicine. That’s what it’s for, and that’s what it’ll always be. And don’t you let your Starbucks and your local coffeehouses fool you. They’re all liars brainwashing you, making you think that coffee is some sort of part snack, part status-symbol! You fools! Coffee is, was, and will always be, medicine. That’s why I drink it, and That’s why I drink Folgers. Now, just like I stated earlier, I’m a human being — I like recreation, and I like change. Just because coffee is medicine doesn’t mean there’s one unrivaled version. Me changing my coffee brand is just the same as changing from Tylenol to NyQuil. There is no difference. And that is just what I did. I was feeling a bit adventurous, and just like anyone in this mindset, I set a mental goal that the next time I ran out of coffee, I would buy from a different brand. A few hours later, I drove to the store and went scavenging, and the first brand I set eyes on was Maxwell. Good old Maxwell — Well, at least I thought. When I came home and brewed my very first pot of Maxwell, and took my very first sip of my very first cup, I frowned. It tasted exactly like Folgers — My baby. Just like it. Tears poured down my face. My feeling of change was well, just a feeling. It seemed that the only real sense of change I experienced was the brand. I was disillusioned, and even now as I drink from my cup filled with Maxwell, I am reminded of my disappointment. I am disenfranchised as a human-being. I am distraught.

Drinking Folgers will never be the same again.