all month i've been telling the employees about the ethiopian coffee that is coming. all week i've been like a kid who can hardly wait for his birthday. now it's friday and all day i've been pacing the shop, looking out the window. if it doesn't come today, it's going to be another long cold weekend.
the phone rings, it's the truck driver. i'm his last stop of the day, but he's going to try to make it. "don't give up and go home," he tells me. "i'll stay here all night if i need to," i tell him.
he shows up at 6pm, in the snow and ice, it's dark. he opens his truck and we have to unload several pallets of other people's stuff to get to the pallets of coffee. "i skipped several stops because you guys are always good to me," he explains. i think he knows he's been carrying 8,000 pounds of ethiopia coffee in his truck all day and he's as excited as i am.
there's several different lots, and i want to try all of them. i get them lined up in the warehouse and turn on the music, fill up the bucket for the first roast. here we go. it's gonna be a fun night.