I’m always a step or two behind the latest trends; when I was younger it kind of bothered me that I was terminally uncool but now, in middle age, I simply don’t care anymore, although it surprises me that there are many people who do.
Just last week for example I was spreading mulch in the front yard. It was a beautiful springtime day; I had taken my shirt off and Ali was nearby; she had clearly found something dead and disgusting in the lawn and was burrowing her face into the grass and then rolling on her back in pure canine ecstasy. That’s when my perfect neighbor Claire walked by with Jerome, her perfect dog.
“Spreading mulch?” Claire said, pulling Jerome away from Ali, clearly afraid he would be sullied if the two dogs touched noses. I mumbled something noncommittal and Claire tried to smile, although what came out was closer to a sneer. “How retro,” she said; “you still use red mulch.” I stared at her, uncomprehending. She gave a careless little laugh. “No one uses red mulch anymore,” she said. “Black mulch is in style now.” And she and Jerome walked away.
I finished my mulch project despite Claire’s disapproval, took a fast shower and went to the gym. While I was crunching my partner called and we had a thrilling conversation about whether we should have old leftovers or really old leftovers for dinner. As I hung up an acquaintance of mine gave me a pitying look.
“No one uses I-phones anymore,” he told me condescendingly, “except for old people and teenage girls.” He looked at me appraisingly and since I am so obviously not a teenage girl I had no doubt as to how I was categorized. Unconcerned I shrugged and went back to crunching although why he would care so much about my cell phone was a mystery to me.
Later that week we had Tom and Tim, friends of my partner, over for dinner. Tom and Tim are not my favorite people; they are extremely pretentious and are the kind of guys who still try to wear “skinny jeans” even though they are both in their mid-fifties– get the picture? I call them “Tired and Tedious.”
Tired and Tedious fancy themselves major coffee connoisseurs and can spend hours debating the merits of Arabica versus Robusta; the last time we had them over they got all sniffy because I made coffee using a drip coffee maker. “No one uses a drip coffeemaker,” said Tired, appalled. “You don’t have a percolator?” asked Tedious, horrified.
The great thing about associating with people who are impossible to please is that I don’t evevn try to please them. This is why, after dinner when I went back to the kitchen and discovered that I was almost out of coffee, I didn’t hesitate for a minute. I simply mixed some stale Folger’s with some leftover Dunkin’ Donuts Decaf , tossed in the remainder of an ancient bag of Starbucks and added something with a picture of a burro on the bag.
As I served the coffee Tedious was telling me that they recently adde a separate water line for their espresso machine while Tired explained to my partner that he and Tedious had their coffee mixed to their own specifications. “We’re special and we deserve special coffee,” agreed Tired as my partner reached without ceremony for the wine bottle.
I poured the coffe, asking brightly, “What did we do before Mr. Coffee was invented?” and watched my guests wince in horror. But then, as Tired tasted the coffee he gave me a glance of approval. “This is outstanding!” he told me. My partner gave me an incredulous look.
Tedious tasted his coffee too. “This is awesome,” he agreed. “What brand is it?”
“It’s a secret recipe,” I said, not looking at my partner. “It was specially mixed just for you guys.”
“We must have the recipe,” said Tired.
“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” I said truthfully as Tedious drained his cup.
“Can I have a refill?” he asked.