When I was younger, I could tell when my mom had a deadline because she’d turn on the Greatful Dead and drink a latte. (Wow, did that just sum up my mom, or what?) My mom loves lattes but my hippie parents couldn’t quite accept Starbucks, so we ended up with a cappiccino machine worthy of an Italian bakery.
And that became the beginning of my love affair with coffee. I don’t like black coffee, and my ex-boyfriend liked to remind me that good coffee is wasted on me. I really like 7-11 coffee, Cumbie’s coffee and Dunkin’ Donuts coffee. I especially like gas station coffee when you can add vanilla or hazelnut or chocolate cream or tiny hard marshmallows. Usually Stick’s in line to pay for his black coffee while I do my best to create a caffienated sundae.
I went into the KFC about 2 weeks ago because I thought a “Western” place might have iced coffee, and I asked, in my horrible Chinese, for iced coffee. What I got what a delicious glass of iced coffee with vanilla ice cream on top. It was SO good I figured it had to be a mistake. When you want to order a cold beer in China, you ask for “ice beer” so what I actually said is “you have ice coffee yes?” (Yes, I can ask for cold beer in Chinese. I TOLD you I only know essentials.)
I figured I was finally benefitting from a Chinese error, but it turns out that this ice cream coffee is not given to weird foreigners but actually on the menu! Amazing! I could go on about the joys of this KFC coffee but I’ll sum it up:
Times I visited KFC in my entire life before coming to China: 4 or 5
Times I visited KFC in China: 5 or 6
Times I visited KFC solely to drink the amazing ice cream coffee: 7
Zorro recently pointed out that my addiction to iced coffee leaves me without grounds to mock his Sprite addiction (Thanks to Zorro, I can also ask for a cold Sprite in Chinese.) or David’s Coke addiction.