A Ridiculous Taxonomy of Coffee Drinkers
An entirely unscientific field guide, in the spirit of the name.
I named a consultancy after coffee, so I have clearly spent more time than is reasonable thinking about the people who drink it and the small ways they give themselves away while doing so. Not the coffee itself. The performance around the coffee. The ordering, the holding, the not-quite-drinking.
Consider this a field guide. You will recognise someone. You will probably recognise yourself. Both are allowed. Full colour printable at the end.
The One Who Only Drinks It Black And Tells You About It
Not because black coffee is quicker, or cheaper, or any of the practical reasons a person might land there. Because it says something, and they would like you to receive the message. Milk is for people who haven’t fully committed. Sugar is a compromise. They will find a way to mention this before you’ve finished your own order.
The Person Who Orders Something With Seven Syllables
Half caff, oat, extra hot, one pump, no foam, in a cup that is somehow also a personality trait. The barista has stopped writing it down because they both know it by heart now. This is not indulgence. This is a fully specified system, arrived at through years of iteration, and it deserves your respect.
The One Who Has Been Nursing The Same Cup Since 9am
It is now 2pm. The coffee is stone cold. They are still drinking it, at intervals, the way you’d sip something out of habit rather than thirst. It has become less a drink and more a small, cold, ongoing commitment. Nobody has the heart to tell them.
The Oat Milk Diplomat
Asks about the oat milk before anyone else has thought to. Not fussy, exactly, just thorough, and quietly prepared to have Opinions about barista technique if the moment calls for it. Will explain, gently, unprompted, why this particular oat milk froths differently. You did not ask. You are glad they told you.
The Two Sugars, No Judgement
The steadiest presence in any office. Orders the same thing every time, drinks it without ceremony, has never once described their coffee order as a “ritual.” You could set your watch by them, if your watch ran on quiet reliability rather than caffeine.
The Meeting Hider
Holds the cup the way other people hold a clipboard. Rarely drinks from it. It is a prop, a shield, something to do with your hands when someone asks a question you don’t want to answer immediately. By the end of the meeting the cup is exactly as full as it was at the start.
The 4pm Emergency Espresso
Fine, fine, entirely fine, all day, right up until 4pm, at which point something shifts and there is a sudden, urgent need for the strongest thing the machine can produce. No warning. No prior symptoms. Just a sharp turn towards the espresso machine and a look that says the day has, at last, caught up with them.
The One Who Says They Don’t Really Need The Coffee, They Just Like The Ritual
Needs the coffee. Likes saying this sentence more than they like the coffee, possibly. There is something genuine underneath it, though, the sense that the five minutes of making it, the small pause before the day properly starts, matters more than the drink itself. I have some sympathy for this one. I built a whole consultancy around a version of it.
Which one are you
If you read this and felt seen, you are not alone, and you are also not obligated to change. If you read this and felt seen twice, on behalf of two different people you know, forward it to both of them and let them work out which is which.
With kindness, and always with coffee, Sharon
