I enjoy a lot of things, but one thing I don’t enjoy – is tea.
I know, I am a dish addict – surely I am mistaken, and I actually love tea, right?
Sadly, no. I love teacups and teapots, tables set for tea with pretty floral china, and sugar/creamer sets and little lemon forks and even Tea Time Magazine… but I don’t love tea.
Do you know what that’s like? Do you have any idea what it’s like to love all the accoutrements of tea… but to dislike the actual beverage?
It’s like loving fur and paws and whiskers and sweet little noses and funny feline internet memes… but disliking cats. It’s like loving all the actors, bit players and technical crew members of a blockbuster film, but disliking the actual movie.
Seriously, not only do I not like tea, I don’t even know how to talk about it. I imagine it’s like wine, with lots of airing and sniffing and “fruit notes” and swirling around in the cup.
My inability to enjoy tea pretty much limits my role in any conversation I can ever have with actual tea aficionados:
THEM: “Is that a fruit note I detect at the finish of this perfectly steeped oolong?”
ME: “I DON’T KNOW BUT LOOK AT THE PRETTY FLOWERS ON THAT SAUCER!”
So what’s a teacup-loving girl to do when actual tea isn’t her… um, cup of tea?
You might think I’d drink coffee instead, but no – I don’t like that either. My caffeine comes from Diet Coke. And there are few things more – FRAUDULENT – than drinking cola from an English cup.
So, it seems, I’m resigned to a life of enjoying my teacups purely for their visual beauty, the delicate, happy sound made when they clink on the saucer, and the cool, smooth feel of the fine bone china in my hands – rather than their actual functionality.
Because this, dear readers, is the alternative.
So, so fraudulent!