I thought of a great punk band name

By Laura Crisp Davis - April 10, 2021
I thought of a great punk band name

One vaccine dose down, one to go. Besides getting back at live standup, one of the first things I plan to do after I'm fully vaccinated is get coffee. Not in a drive thru. IN A FREAKING SHOP. 

There's nothing like that amazing moment when I walk into a Biggby or a Peets or a Starbucks and breathe in the angelic coffee aroma. I get withdrawal for that blissful moment. I'm filled with utter delight if there is a blue-haired or sleeve-tattooed barista. I don’t know what it is about them, but they know what the hell they’re doing back there with those magic beans. 

Confession: if a trio of chatty MLM moms or a real estate lady on a cellphone walks in behind me, I increase my tip if I catch the barista rolling their eyes. Too cool for successful, happy adults. Roll. Bonus points if I see another writer at their laptop roll their eyes at the chattiness. Oh my gawd that’s the best.

Before my sleep disorder was diagnosed, coffee literally kept me going. I don’t mean this in an ironic way. I mean it kept me awake and semi-alert for nine long years. There were too many days when my “permanent jet lag” would make my muscles hurt, my brain foggy, and my eyes droop. Coffee was the only thing that consistently helped. 

Even though my sleep disorder is now treated, I still have to have my coffee. Okay, it’s almost any hot beverage and really it’s more about the mug. The mug needs to have a rotund shape. I want to be able to snuggle it with my hands, you know?

As much as I want to brag that I take my magic potion black, dark as the Mistress Elivra on Halloween night, I can’t. I’m a wuss. I hate the bitterness. I add so much crap to my coffee that it’s a big bomb of fattening unholiness. Here's the weird thing: I don’t sweeten my tea.

I used to, until a tea-ologist (I think that was her title) informed me that the reason tea tasted bitter or sour was because I steeped it too long. Some teas need longer, some need less time. This is why you need a tea-ologist. Okay, that’s not it.

I legit just searched it—the official term of a tea expert is…drum roll…tea sommelier.

I swear, it’s really a thing. 

Back to coffee. I have a coffee station next to my desk, and in truth, I've had it for several years before the pandemic. Don’t be too impressed, it’s not fancy. It’s a cheap piece of furniture with a regular coffee brewer, an espresso machine, mugs, a stockpile of coffee in bean, drip, and espresso forms, and a drawer of various teas. It’s my little spot in the house. I mean, I share with others, but it’s mine. I take great pleasure that literally three feet from my desk is my own coffee and tea bonanza. 

But it's not the same as getting my Americano handed to me from a pierced up Peets angel.

I wonder who the first human was to decide that those leaves or beans should be harvested, dried or roasted, and then mixed with boiling water? Whoever it was, they should be granted sainthood. 

Okay, now I’m curious.

So, apparently Kaldi, a 9th century legendary Ethiopian Sufi goatherd discovered coffee when his goats got excited after eating beans from a coffee plant. I’m cracking up. I can just imagine this guy. His goats start screaming like those internet goats, but spinning out like sugared-up toddlers at a birthday party. He sees their buzz and says, “DUUUUDE. I want some of that action! Let me try it!”

And then there’s Shen Nung, an ancient Chinese emperor, who allegedly discovered tea in 2732 B.C. when leaves from a wild tree blew into his pot of boiling water, which produced a pleasant scent of the resulting brew, so he drank it. I mean, who does that? 

If I’m at an outdoor cafe and some leaves blow into my drink, I’m like, “Aw man. I got leaves in my coffee! That blue-haired barista’s gonna roll her eyes at me if I ask for a new one.” 

Good thing discovering tea wasn’t on me, or there would be no tea.

Here’s to the guy who didn’t mind crap falling in his drink and especially to the screaming, caffeinated goats—OMG that’d be a great name for a punk band, no? 

“Hello Chicago! We’re the Screaming Caffeinated Goats!” Crowd goes wild!

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Sometimes I'm serious, sometimes I'm silly. Any scripts referenced are for educational purposes only. (My lawyer made me say that part.)