Paul Osborne wrote:Actually I take tea/coffee as it comes, not fussed about milk/sugar as I have had too many dodgy mugs of tea/coffee in too many dodgy places.
--Paul
--not a tea/coffee connoisseur (sp?)
Yes, this string was inspired by Paul's observation that he had drunk lots of dodgy coffees.
Two stories: A Glasgow minister was visiting an elderly parishioner in one of the multi-storey blocks of flats of which the developers and planners ought to be heartily ashamed. The widowed woman asked if he would join her in tea. he was delighted to accept.
He watched as his elderly parishioner took from the little display cabinet the last surviving cup and saucer from her wedding china, and take it to the kitchen.
She returned with the cup and another of more ordinary provenance for herself. They sat and spoke and she poured the tea.
The minister did not take either milk or sugar so the old lady passed him his cup, and then remembered that she had left the cakes in the kitchen. As she made her way to collect them, the minister lifted the cup to his lips, and became aware of a film of dust that was floating on top of the drink that cheers.
Trying to be nonchalant, he made his way to the open window, ostensibly to admire the view. He leaned out slightly and poured brew through the thirteen floor drop. Behind him he heard his hostess begin her return to the living room. He turned and was surprised at the look of horror on her face. He glanced at his hand and realized that while he was still holding the handle of the cup, the business part of the tea-vessel was now thirteen floors away, and in a million pieces.
That story was somebody else’s. This one is mine.
I was a relatively new minister in Aberdeen, and had gone to visit a parishioner who was languishing in one of Her Majesty’s establishments at Craiginches. Here he had already spent five years of the twelve year tariff of his life sentence.
The man had become a model prisoner, and worked as a trustee; he had earned many privileges. When I arrived at his hall he asked if I would like some tea. I have to say that I was a little apprehensive, but I accepted. We spoke as he busied himself with kettle, pot and tea bags. Did I take sugar? Neither milk nor sugar, thank you.
He poured the tea and handed it to me as he explained that he was working in the prison infirmary.
As I lifted the cup from the little table where he had put it down, I became aware of a slight stickiness on the handle. The cup did not seem to be clean, nor did it seem to have been cleaned for some time.
What should I do? If I had refused to drink, I may have given deep and profound offence. If I did drink, I may have contracted all sorts of infections.
I glanced at the cup from which he was drinking, and it looked pretty unsanitary as well. In the end I reckoned that the risks of drinking were not so great as the damage that could be done by not drinking, so I smiled and tried to pretend that this was the sort of thing that I did every day.
In the years since, I have often drunk tea and coffee that I’d have preferred to throw away, but all of them have served mostly to remind me of that occasion in HMP Craiginches.
i have had soooooooo many disasters, 2 many 2 mention but lets just say when i served coffee to President Clinton - he had chest pains after - i am yet to live down the slagging! I have also spilled coffee over many a customer (though not intentionally obviously!!!) and gave my ex boyfriend food poisoning with my delightful cooking! My coffee does taste good though - i make a mean latte!!