Coffee Talk

When I was a little girl we didn’t have cable television. Our television was a piece of furniture unto itself. It sat in the living room…a large plant stand from which Little House on the Prairie blared religiously on Monday evenings. Mondays were my favorite night back then. After cheering for Laura as she triumphed time and again over the detestable Nellie Oleson my mother and I would sit cross-legged in front of the TV folding the weekend laundry while she watched M*A*S*H. I had her all to myself…even if I did have to sit and match socks. Those were the simpler days. The days when reception depended on this thing called an antenna that sprung from rooftops up and down the street. It wasn’t long before a new item adorned the top of that old T.V. set. Subscription television finally came to my house. We had what was called ON Television, which was a pretty funny name because it was more OFF than it was ON. Broadcasting only between the hours of 6pm to 1am they provided commercial free movies, sports events, and theatrical performances. It came into our home via a small black box that sat atop the behemoth squawking plant stand. In order to view this smorgasbord of commercial free goodies you had to turn your television to an off broadcast channel and then switch the box ON. The commercial free movies were great, but like I said…it wasn’t always ON.

After that…we got cable television. Cable was even better than ON because it was ON all the time. Not only did cable come with movie channels it came with additional television channels. It was here that I was introduced to Alanis Morissette, the woman that stole my diary…turned it into a bunch of really great songs…made a ton of money off of it…and hasn’t even had the decency to buy me a cup of coffee. OK…that might be an exaggeration…she didn’t actually steal my diary but listening to her songs it sometimes seems like she must have. All kidding aside, I did watch her faithfully every afternoon on Nickelodeon's You Can't Do That on TV…though that would be a few years after we actually got cable. Preceding the entrance into my life of a most beloved chanteuse was the premier of Music Television, also known as MTV.

I was 8 years old when MTV debuted. The hype surrounding this premier was so huge that even I…a mere 8 years old was excited to see what this music television was about. I remember standing in front of that enormous television/plant stand when out of the darkness came the words “Ladies and gentlemen, rock and roll," followed by the now iconic MTV man on the moon. Already having absorbed my parents love of music I was familiar with the sounds of Linda Ronstadt, Janis Joplin, AC/DC, The Stones...the list goes on. But I had never seen an actual music video. This would soon change as Video Killed the Radio Star by The Buggles filled the picture screen beneath my mothers plant collection.



Over the years I would get to know the VJ’s well, Martha Quinn being my all-time favorite. But, as a true blue lover of music...I never really got the allure of MTV. Sure…some of the videos were cool, and I seriously wanted to be Martha Quinn, but the sound was atrocious. Those speakers on that ancient console television just didn’t do Pat justice as she informed me, rather astutely I might add, that Love is a Battlefield. It really is.

Perhaps if I had been witness to the birth of MTV on Paul’s new enormous 60” wide screen high-definition flat plasma screen TV jacked into his killer sound system that now adorns our living room I would have a different opinion of it. I’ve never seen Blade Runner look or sound as good as it did last night. The house actually rumbled with the sound. With this baby…there would be no mistaking the severity of Pat’s message…it would be heard loudly, clearly, and accompanied by a high definition dance floor battlefield where ladies of the night layed down their arms and took up the dance in an effort to show the slimy night club owner the power of female solidarity.



Paul seems quite pleased with his new toy. I’m sure he’ll be even more pleased when football season starts again. It will be just like he’s actually at the game only with prime ticket it will be like he is at ALL of the games. The only real problem with this new acquisition is the need to do a little housecleaning. And by housecleaning I mean getting rid of an old broken down big screen television that my other roommate has been storing downstairs. Granted…when it worked Paul made good use of it. However...it hasn’t worked in months...and it doesnt look like the big plans to get it fixed are going to happen so it has simply been sitting in the corner collecting dust.

Paul told Jack (we’ll call him Jack because he’s a bit of a jackass) of his plans and asked him to find a home for it. Jack has had plenty of time to accomplish this but he hasn’t. So now…Pauls old entertainment center is sitting in the doorway and the big screen is still collecting dust in the corner and NOW he’s looking to find someone to take it because he doesn’t want to throw it away (Goodwill…going once…going twice). But, in addition to being a bit of a jackass he is also a complete and total loser so I don’t have high hopes for that big hunk of dust collector getting cleared out anytime soon. I mean…we are talking about a guy that sits around in his underwear playing Halo3 all day when he should be out looking for a job. I guess I shouldn’t be too hard on him. I mean…what kind of job can an aspiring actor with extreme love-handles and a penchant for fast food find if he happens to be dead set on a movie career…leading man roles only thank you very much. And don’t even think about asking him to go find a job where you can enjoy an ooey gooey slice of pizza pie. No. He came here to be an actor and if he’s just going to go work a regular office job he might as well go home…an excellent idea in my opinion.

To be fair, he had some problems with his leg about a year ago and wasn’t able to work out. And while most people would see this as a good reason to cut back on their food intake he saw it as a good excuse to go back on the fast food. But this was a YEAR ago…maybe more. He’s not sick anymore. He can get off his lazy butt and at the very least empty the dishwasher or take the trash out…without being asked. That might expel enough calories to burn off a couple of the french fries he comes home with almost every night (cause sometimes its Tacos). Now…I don’t actually care if the guy is fat but if you can’t work because you are fat and you can’t get off your lazy ass to get “not fat” then what you are saying is…I just want to sit around and play Halo3 in my underwear all day. How is he paying the rent you ask? Well…he part-time bar tends at various dive bars but I know he owes Paul money. How much…I don’t know…that’s Pauls business.

But what really got me going today was the thing about the coffee. Jack…who owes Paul money and doesn’t seem to care that he is putting Paul in a position to either support or boot out a person that Paul used to consider a friend got all uppity about coffee this morning. See, when Paul came down this morning he put the nasty hazelnut crème coffee that Jack made into my thermos, assuming it was mine. I don’t make hazelnut crème coffee so I told Paul that I would let Jack have the rest of his coffee and I would pinch some of his for my ride in to work. Paul and I don’t have problems with coffee. We both drink the same kind and we both make a reasonably tasty brew, though mine tends to the strong side. Not Jack. Jack makes some kind of brown, oft-times flavored, water that he calls coffee. There is nothing coffee about it. Paul shoots off to work and I inform Jack that his coffee is in the thermos by the coffee pot. I was so not prepared for the bitch-fest that came of this comment. You see…this whole situation whereby Paul comes down in the morning and sets the coffee already in the pot aside so that he can make his own “has GOT to stop”. Jack is sick and tired of going down to Starbucks for coffee because he can’t use the coffee pot blah blah blah and if we want to have our own coffees we can just get our own coffee pots!

WELL!

1. Where is he getting the money for Starbucks when he can’t pay Paul the rent?
2. Where the hell does he get off making any kind of demands when he contributes absolutely nothing to the household?

As far as I’m concerned the guy has no rights. And…it’s not even like he just doesn’t contribute. He is actually a negative force in the house making messes and trash that he simply won’t clean up. I am a fairly compassionate person and I usually try to see the good in everyone, but this guy…I don’t care how depressed he is…I have absolutely no sympathy for him. Look up loser in the dictionary and there is a picture of my roommate Jack. He’s lucky Paul hasn’t kicked him out on his ass already.

And that concludes my rant for the day…because you don’t even want to get me started on work!