Blathr Wayne Lorentz

Todayʼs coffee is the blandly named “Decaf” from Firecreek Coffee in Flagstaff.

I wonder if the curly flourishes on the label are supposed to be sarcasm quotes, because this “Decaf” hits me like a Reno-bound trucker hits a sleeping burro on U.S. 95. Maybe someoneʼs having a laugh, but this decaf is the sort of coffee that makes you want to take up smoking. Itʼll invite you to the movies, pay for extra butter on the popcorn, walk you home, give you a goodbye smooch at the door, and then never call you again. Iʼve slept better after being mugged. But I guess thatʼs OK because I like my coffee the way I like my women: unbalanced, and hopped up on goofballs.

Todayʼs coffee is Storm Chaser from Firecreek Coffee in Flagstaff.

Firecreek is a small café that was a couple of blocks away from the hotel where we stayed our first time in Flag. Itʼs a place that doesnʼt know what it wants to be. Thereʼs a stage at one end that looks spooky on nights when nobody is playing. All the tables are too far apart, making the place look deserted. The baristas were pretty hostile, because we were outsiders, and when I tried to pay with my phone they looked at me like I was from outer space. The coffee can also be described as hostile.

If a coffee can be passive aggressive, this is it. Originally, I was going to say nothing more than this was a smidge above average. But then I noticed that when I drink this stuff, I get really agitated. I think it must have a lot more caffeine than most other coffees. Many people think that decaffeinated coffee is heresy, but with my activity level, I have to switch to unleaded in the afternoon.

Storm Chaser sticks with you. I even cut back to just one cup of this in the morning, and decaf for the rest of the day, and I could still feel it. Fortunately, I like my coffee the way I like my women: aggressive and unpredictable.

Last weekʼs coffee was from Ralph Lauren. Todayʼs coffee is from Macyʼs. But not the evil Cincinnati mega retailer that ate Foleyʼs red apple for lunch. This one is Macyʼs Coffee in Flagstaff, Arizona. (Simply “Flag” to the locals.)

Macyʼs Coffee is run by a guy named Macy, and the department store chain doesnʼt seem to notice or care. Unlike Microsoft that sued a kid named Mike Rowe who registered the domain name mikerowesoft.com years ago. But thatʼs another rant.

The specific type is “Decafe Sumatra.” Why itʼs “decafe” instead of “decaf,” I donʼt know. I checked, and “decafe” is not Indonesian for decaf, so maybe Mr. Macy is just trying to be extra fancy. But thatʼs OK, because I like my coffee the way I like my women: fancy and Indonesian.

The coffee is good, as decafs go. A little better than average. Slightly smooth, but not noticeably so unless youʼre looking for it. Decafs are getting hard to find these days. A lot of the independent roasters seem to be cutting down on SKUs, so I either have to search harder or get more exercise. I think you know which option Iʼll choose.

The real urban outfitters.

Good thing this TV has a remote. Because of you walk too close, the plug falls out of the wall.

This isnʼt the worst hotel TV we came across during this trip, but at least now Darcie appreciates the way that I dress the cables at home.

A neon gem down a dark side street. Every 1940ʼs film approves.

I shall lay my head here tonight. And then, never again.

You might be in a college town if…

We were on the way to Flagstaff, Arizona when Darcie said, “Donʼt forget Winona!” So, here we are.