I’m shopping for a Mr. Coffee replacement at William Sonoma, and Sales Associate Lorenzo shows me Smeg Coffee Machines, Italian 1950s style—lovely colors, metal and glass, with smooth rounded lines that resemble the lines and colors of fanciful Italian scooters. For a moment I imagine myself riding down a narrow cobblestone street between fanciful buildings from two centuries ago, wearing a helmet of course—but compromisingly small and stylish—on my way for a cappuccino.

Lorenzo mentions that last week two customers, professional coffee tasters, claimed that this was their favorite coffee machine and I think how in the world does anyone get paid to taste coffee ... the way you might react when you learn of an out-of-this-world profession like Zamboni driver or dark-chocolate influencer, and now I’m back on my imaginary stylish necco-green scooter leaving my morning-sun-filled flat and personal Smeg behind, starting another beautiful day on my way to taste coffee in a not so far away cafe, prepared to lend my professional assessment in a lyrical review of a coffee’s notes, origin shades, and fair trade practices.

Balzac drank 50 cups a day and said that without coffee he could not write, which is to say he could not live, so there could be no denying the importance, not to mention necessity and pleasure of my work, my coffee craft, although Honore did die of heart failure at 51, an age already in my rearview.

Sales Associate Lorenzo clears his throat and brings me back to the task at hand and says, Which color would you like. Admiring his assumed close, I say, The Green per favore, to match my scooter and helmet, but of course.

Bio: Guy Biederman