From the Blog

Oregon Style Honeymoon: Interrupted By Awful Coffee

Okay, so for breakfast on our thirdish day, we went to a diner-style cafe in the tiny town of Prairie City. Our next major town or stop on our route was Baker City, and that was an over hour away. I needed to eat before then.

I don’t know about you, but I am totally controlled by creature discomforts. If I’m hungry, I’ll slowly begin to lose more and more of my mind until I can’t see straight. I get preoccupied, then I get crabby. Then I get insufferable. And then I can’t function beyond getting food, any food, to put in my mouth. Likewise, if I get tired. At the end of an evening, I will hit a wall, then the fatigue takes over, and I am DONE for the night. And because I have the sleep schedule of a toddler, that wall comes pretty early. It doesn’t matter if I’m at a nice adult party, or someone has made a homemade dinner, or we are celebrating Uncle Jed getting out of prison. I have no “politeness override” if I hit my fatigue wall. I have no way of concealing my yawning or exhaustion. And the later I stay out, the less I care. I’m tired of your bullcrap, Uncle Jed, I’m going home to go to bed.

I’d like to think I’m in control of my functions because I am a human being, and an adult. It would feel much more dignified to shrug it off, and have a stiff upper lip, and press on, and take one for the team or whatever. But no. If I’m hungry, or tired, or if I need to pee, I don’t care about you. Sorry.

Right. So, breakfast in tiny Prairie City. Just the kind of off-the-road experience we seek out. Damn straight we’ll get breakfast in the empty cafe in this snoozy little town. Breakfast is breakfast, and it’s American, and and it’s the same in any small town in our great land. The cafe was vacant except for one woman who never spoke and didn’t seem to move the entire time we were there. Some hunters came in at some point, I assume they were hunters, they were in fatigues, so maybe they belonged to an apocalyptic survivalist cult, because this is small town Oregon, and you can never rule those sort of things out.

We ordered breakfast and got coffee, because this was not the type of place to serve lattes. It was the only establishment open, early on a Tuesday morning, in a tiny agricultural town. And I imagined the frequent patrons of this cafe were probably farmers, hunters, anglers and cowboys. That was the kind of town this was. All of those early risers and rugged dudes need a place to eat.

Those are all pretty hearty professions. They have to get up early, like really early, and do like, “physical” type work. It’s not the kind of lifestyle meant for sissies.

However, and here is my point: Why in the hell would a cafe like this, one serving these rugged sorts of burly men who need to wake up in the morning, serve the Shittiest Coffee On The Planet? THE SHITTIEST COFFEE ON THE PLANET ™. It was astoundingly bad. It was just a shade darker than puddle water in a cow field. It was seriously light orange when the waitress poured it into my cup. It was totally transparent. And there was barely even a vague coffee flavor to it. I would like to say this was an anomaly, but we went to a couple small agricultural town cafes, and the coffee was super awful at all of them.

So, farmers, hunters, anglers and cowboys drink this stuff. Why are they such sissies? I would think they would want REAL coffee. Dark, strong, powerful coffee that sticks in your teeth and makes you beat your chest and tear out the hearts of your enemies with your bare hands.

Why would they just drink warm brown water? I get that it’s just $.50 a cup, and that’s just what you get. But I’m just saying. I’m saying those burly, rugged dudes are sissies.

The only way I would ever post a photo of myself such as the one below is to express the depth of how awful the coffee was.

Awful, sissy cowboy coffee. The mugs were cool, though.


  1. WOW!! Even I can do better than that, especially since we got a new coffee maker. Next time there will be some GOOD coffee waiting for you in rural Nevada.

  2. FlamingAtheist says

    That is strange, usually the smaller towns I’ve had coffee in it was bad because they tried to brew it too strong. Crap like Folgers with a burnt tinge. But never tea strength. Note to self on next Eastern Oregon trip – take Via packets, just in case.

  3. that’s sad.

  4. Oh man, that’s a great/bad coffee face. That’s pretty much what I wear every morning I attempt to drink the coffee at work. :(

  5. This is why I pack my Aeropress and some Stumptown or Blue Gardenia with me whenever I’m traveling. I’ll order hot water and make my own coffee if I have to!

  6. Nice brands on the 6×6 posts! Do the locals ranchers brand their favorite booth?

  7. Nice mug. Typical for far eastern Oregon. If it isn’t Folgers, its not coffee. A movie I recently saw typifies this EXACTLY… Its called “Sweet Land” and there is a scene in it that describes the thin coffee mindset to the letter. The movie is good too.

  8. Hilarious! The entirety of this story resonates with me like you can’t believe!

  9. seriously the best photo ever.

  10. I’ve seen that face before!!

    Agreed, need at least decent coffee.

  11. Auntie Laurie says

    I Drag my ASS for you, no one should have to suffer thru BAD Coffee!!

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