A day without caffeine

Written for the Wam Bam Poetry Slam, Mad Bar.

My doctor says I can't have any more caffeine. It's the surgery, he says. The caffeine will interact badly with the surgery. No alcohol, no pot, no ibuprofen, and no caffeine from now until the surgery, he says. A week from now, he says.

And I say Are you trying to kill me, doctor? A day without caffeine is like a day without sunshine. A day without caffeine is like a day without my el breaking down halfway to work, a day without the homeless guys behind my building urinating in public. A day without caffeine, doctor, is a day not worth living!

My Grande Cafe Mocha is my best friend. It is warmer than most of my lovers, more reliable than my computer, more forgiving than God himself. When I've walked into work this week without my 22 ounce buddy safely in hand, something doesn't feel right. I spend the hours from nine until noon helplessly clutching at empty space next to my workstation, a sadder and sadder look coming me to the point where co-workers are coming over and patting me on the back, expressing their condolences for my loss of a loved one!

Doctor, you cannot take my caffeine away! Alcohol, now that's fine. Alcohol was never my friend to begin with. Alcohol is like that kid in school who spends hours whispering into your ear, convincing you to do utterly stupid things - "Jason, go over and tell that girl you're in love with her. No, go on, do it! No, really, it's a good idea! She wants you to!" And then when you do, they run off to the playground and deny that they said anything at all. No, alcohol I can do away with. But caffeine? You might as well tell me to stop breathing for four days!

When I'm NOT on caffeine all my friends think I AM on caffeine. I'm jittery and nervous and mean, OH I'm so mean. I yell at my friends. I yell at strangers. I yell at animals. I yell at myself in the middle of public! Damnit, I owe it to the people of Earth to have my grande café mocha! Get the fuck out of my way! I don't care anymore if Starbucks is evil! Let me the fuck in! Yo, over here, a pint of cappuccino to go! No, two pints! No no, three pints! For the love of God, just give me a handful of coffee beans and I'll fucking chew them like fucking Dentine! You're killing me, doctor! You...are...KILLING ME!

I'm sorry, what's that you say? You say I get to have a prescription of Vicodin after the surgery? (Pause, then smiling) Oh, well, that's a whole different story then.

Copyright 2000, Jason Pettus. All rights reserved.