Brewing... Coffee

So while in Dakar last week I capped my last dinner off with an inspirational Irish Coffee… I just so happen to have Bailey’s so upon hearing that (after the authorities looked at the moon) tomorrow would be an official Muslim holiday – end of Ramadan I decided to take the opportunity to make my own delectable coffee treat. Though I enjoy a great cup of café rendered cappuccino, I’m not too experienced at making regular ol’ drip coffee, but I dig through the treasure chest (the welcome kit that I’m provided until my stuff comes) and pulled out the 220V coffee pot. Showing impressive forethought I decided to check out the filter area and all, which were all clean but decided to rinse it out just for good measure before going about the business with the filter and the grounds. With inexperienced estimation I decide on about two table spoons of my cherished Peete’s grounds, then put about three cups of water in, so I’d have enough for tomorrow morning too. After looking at the coffee pot I finally decide I should double check that it too is clean, so I unscrew the lid, as I peek into the mirrored insulation of the interior I see my distorted reflection along with that of the unnerving twitching antennas of my new found two inch nemesis. [I haven’t yet found words for that moment.] I instinctively slam the lid back on and evaluate whether I can some how lock the spout closed, but alas, the twitching antennas reach out… think quick! Okay, okay… A) Pitch the creature outside, yes, yes, that’s the right call… but wait, my kitchen door has no less than four deadbolts, and my keys are by the front door…okay, breath…. plan B ?? B) Contained execution, yes that will do. I’m sifting through my collection of plastic bags trying to find the necessary tools for the job, No! the creature is on the lamb! Starring back at me on the kitchen counter I grab my wooden spoon and a paper towel, the scheming diabolic roach prances down between the dishwasher and the cabinet and then slips behind the appliance… Ahh! So now it’s me, my paper towel shrouded wooden spoon and the defiled coffee pot…three deep breaths. In a moment of pure spite, possibly mixed with some slight nausea, I decide to wash out the toxic coffee pot (the sparse grounds cannot be wasted) and push the button, deciding to accept that the acidic coffee and high temperatures of coffee brewing will sterilize this demoralizing event. In a moment of flippant optimism what’s the difference I add a couple more cups of water to the sputtering machine. And so I celebrate my new found holiday, plot the demise of my slippery foe and move to plan C) which is to hope the creature curls up and dies on its own, unable to survive in the harsh environment that is my kitchen, but just in case I decide to put one of those bug hotels (about the size of a 50¢ piece) on the counter next to my weapon of choice. As I sip my tepid Irish “coffee” in resolve I realize, a lucid moment, that this lurching intruder would no less fit in the offered pest hotel then use its tentacle antennas to reach in to partake of the offered poisonous elixir…not the best cup of coffee…