Our Love Affair With Coffee
I have this vivid image when thinking back to my early days as a kid: the fragrant flavours steaming from a colourful, soup-sized mug being held by my mother as she was reading a book. Always wondering what it was that evoked such a pleasant smile on her face, sip after illustrious sip. I remember how my father would turn from a stubble-faced maniac, resembling a crack addict after a night on the town, to a suave Bond-like creature, ready to negotiate a multi-million dollar deal before breakfast. I later learnt that their secret powers are conjured up from a simple little bean named coffee and that caffeine has the power to change the world.
As a teenage youngster, I one day walked past a coffee shop on my way to a waiter job at the local Spur. This coffee shop was still in it’s shoplifting stage yet there was something so beautiful and robust about it. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. The owners where standing around amongst the chaos of cement and timber, leaning on a half built countertop, each with an espresso in hand, swopping anecdotes of what I assumed must have been some coffee adventure of sort. The feeling that this scene evoked in me I later found to be sense of possibility and promise, and it all started with a cup of coffee.
The owner of the coffee shop saw me staring at him like a fat kid looking at cake and yelled: “Hey…Kid. Can you drive?” I eventually stammered out a: “Yeah…I guess”. He sent me to the garage to buy some gas for one of those heater things you sometimes see outside a restaurant. Let me tell you what a struggle that was as I definitely could not drive. Later that day, the coffeeshop owner and shoplifters came to the Spur where I was working and had lunch. On departing after their chicken-schnitzel and beer, he pointed at me and said to the owner of the spur, that kids working for me now. What a moment of both glory and fear! I put down my tray and tore off my apron and that was that. I was now working for the dude at the coffee shop and what was waiting for me was pure possibility and promise.
Later that same year I was joined by one of my best friends and together we concurred the coffee capital of the East, or so we thought. We were both extremely interested in tattoos and all things tattoo related. We were tattooed coffee gangsters supplying high end caffeine to anyone with an inkling of a craving. Have a cup of coffee and get a tattoo became a silly little thing to say, and who would think that I would many years later turn my love affair with tattoos and coffee into my business.