Fresh Coffee
I could switch tables, I guess, but that just makes things awkward, and there's no guarantee the next one won't wobble. Better to stick with the known quantity and let the coffee clean the grout.
by Michael Dargie · September 25, 2026 · 389 words · 2 min read
They say, “Life is too short for bad coffee.” I'm writing this from Burger Federation in the Calgary International Airport that sells breakfast and probably burgers. It's barely 7 AM. I had some really good drip coffee at home, but as the ritual dictates, I'm here at the burger place waiting for breakfast, so I ordered a coffee. It is awful. I can't quite place the flavour. It's a little like fresh tar, just before they pave the road, mixed with detergent, with just a hint of dead skunk.
I'm in Concourse A of the airport. Normally, I leave from Concourse C and eat at Wander, a great little oasis by Chef Nicole Gomez. I can't say their coffee is any different. I have a usual table there that doesn't wobble. I am nothing if not an adventurer, so I'm embracing this twist in my usual itinerary.
It should also be noted that of all the tables I could have picked in all the burger breakfast joints in the world, the one I picked has a significant wobble; if I put any weight on the left side of the table, the coffee sloshes onto the table and floor. Happy accident: the coffee is cleaning the grout in the tile. Huh.
I could switch tables, I guess, but that just makes things more awkward, and there's no guarantee the next table won't wobble or have some other malady. Better to just make do with the known quantity and do my part to let my coffee clean the floors while I'm here. Funny enough, it doesn't affect the table. It just sorta slides off like a solid, or like one of those non-Newtonian fluids.
The taste is growing on me. I think it's the skunk. It gets less chemical-ee the more I drink and watch it clean.
The coffee has become sentient and is off exploring the rest of the restaurant. It's making its way from table to table, leaving a little clean streak everywhere it goes. An elderly man a few tables down from me just gave it a tater tot. The coffee wiggled hopefully. Satisfied there would be no more tots, it gave a little shake and bounded back into the kitchen.
My cup is empty. I don't think I'll get a refill.
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Jennifer · Sep 25, 2026
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