Spilling the Beans

     Until a few months ago, I had never heard of a Keurig.  As a proud owner of a 12 cup Mr. Coffee, my grounds come in bulk and my loyalty vacillates between Folgers and Maxwell House depending upon which is on sale. What did not escape me, however, was that everyone seemed to be talking about K-cups.  "Once you try one, you'll never go back to the old way", "It allows for spontaneity and variety", and "I'm telling all my friends about them" were a few of the comments I heard which led to my now defunct belief that a K-cup was a new form of birth control.  It seemed that folks were talking about these cups EVERYWHERE and I found it shocking and somewhat scandalous that something so personal was being discussed so publicly.
     It was at a family friend's house that I finally learned the truth.  Over brunch, the host asked if Joe and I had ever tried a K-cup.  I had no idea how to respond to this and was standing there with my mouth agape as he continued, "My wife and I love them and even at our age, we made the switch."  "At our age?"  I wondered, weren't they past the age where one has to worry about needing such things? "You really need to try it", he pressured, as I felt the hives creeping up my neck. "Our daughter and son-in-law got us hooked."  That was definitely more than I ever wanted to know, and as I was gearing up to bolt he finished with "We have flavored creamer, but you may want to use plain milk and sugar the first time so that the true flavor of the coffee comes through."  Wait.  Did he say COFFEE?  He led me, dumbfounded, to a variety of individual cups of flavored coffee and introduced me to his Keurig machine.  I watched in awe as it worked it's magic, and as I enjoyed my first mug of coffee from a K-cup I realized exactly what all the hype was about.
     Shortly after I became in the know about these little cups of bliss, I was at a friend's bridal shower.  When she opened a Keurig and a large assortment of K-cups that a group of church ladies had chipped in to buy, I started to giggle.  When one of those white-haired ladies suggested that these cups changed her life, I began to howl.  By the time my friend's future mother-in-law mentioned how much her son will enjoy them, I had tears streaming down my face (quite unbecoming for a bridal attendant at a quaint tea house). These K-cups were not for the bride and groom on their wedding night, but to be enjoyed the morning after.