Is anyone out there a loyal enough reader that they remember when I posted about learning to use an espresso machine, like, a year ago?
(this is where that link will go once I acquire access to a computer)
Well, guess who gets to put all that practice into use again? *does a happy dance*
You got it. My church needed volunteers to work at the cafe between services. I had to fill out an application and everything.
And so now every Sunday between 9:00 and 11:30, I have the celestial joy of slipping past the small wooden door in the counter and being what as known as an employee. *shiver*
I don't think there is any better job out there than making coffee. To man the squeaking, hissing steam wand over the hot, foaming milk like a pro. To perfectly tame the clumped, unruly coffee grounds into a smoothly packed circle with a twist of the iron stamper-thing that doesn't really have a name. To swirl shots of espresso, flavoring, and nonfat milk in a creamy, perfect mixture, to be graced with whipped cream as the angels sing praises of your pristine syrup-drizzling skill.
So I may have inhaled the smell of coffee grounds for a while. Whatever. The point is, it's nothing short of magical. Up there with performing in a show, reading C.S. Lewis, and getting the perfect amount of milk in my cereal.
I mean, even the plastic buttons on the cash register make me feel like the coolest darn thing ever. I even got to drive to church. How adult am I.
So if anyone wants a Tuxedo Mocha or Americano anytime. *raises eyebrow* You know where to find me.
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