Damn, is there anything caffeine can’t do?
When it’s in coffee form, its aroma wakes us gently each morning, like an attentive lover â€” a lover that smells like a robust French blend. It urges us out each day into the elements with a warmth in our bellies that, as it fades, insists we renew it at the ceaseless fountains found in the ubiquitous corner shops. It sharpens our minds, so we can curse the other sorry bastards on the freeways and subways with clarity and aplomb and a level of aggression that is slightly above comfortable for any social situation. It quietly and humbly readies us to begin working at jobs we don’t want to do. In energy drink form, it raises our blood pressure to the point where we can feel that life-affirming pounding in our temples. It provides us a means by which we are able to paint the house, do the taxes, and install a sprinkler system at the city park all at the same time, without even caring that our hearts are in danger of exploding like an over-filled water balloon.
And now, we discover it also induces hallucinations!!
That is not just awesome. That is extra-strength awesome. Caffeine truly is a wonder drug.
No more will we be forced to ingest a tiny piece of paper that has been soaked in chemicals to experience visions and to open our minds to alternative realities. No more will we find a need to gobble up earthy bits of fungus that grow on cow shit to warp the ordinary into something extraordinary. All we need to do to escape the confines of mundane, everyday life is ride upon the gossamer wings of caffeine. A mere pot and a half of coffee or half a case of soda can take us to worlds beyond this one. It can open the doors to Xanadu and usher us in on a cloud where we are met by wonderful music and voices and multiple personalities.
Oh, the possibilities.
But as exciting as this news about caffeine is, I’m a little worried about the long-term effects. I’m scared things may go bad, as they often do when we discover something that helps us escape so easily.
I mean, I currently mainline my morning coffee. I just shoot it right into my vein. And I worry that as I crave the visions and hallucinations more and more, I won’t be able to keep things in check. Someday you’ll see me strung out in an alley somewhere, and I’ll say something like: “Hey, nice lady? Hey, come on. Don’t run away. Help a brotha out. You got any Colombian, Brazilian, anything. I’ll even take Folger’s, if you got it. How ’bout a Pepsi? You gotta Pepsi? Come on, man. I’m hurtin’.”
Because, you know, that’s how it starts. One day you’re sipping a cappuccino, talking to a miniature version of Abe Lincoln in a bikini, the next you’re under a freeway overpass strung out on Red Bull and Mountain Dew, looking to score a can of the fabled Jolt Cola so you can return to the battle against theÂ Jewish Leprechauns and scary circus clowns that have captured Princess Clitoris and the golden stallions of Chocolate Valley.