

I worked with a guy who had neck surgery that severed the nerves to his taste buds. We worked overnight shifts, and we’d save the old coffee for him because he didn’t mind the flavor of burnt coffee. There was always a pot of fresh coffee brewing and a pot of stale coffee set aside for Matt.
I know, the first time someone said it, he wasn’t there, and I was like… wait, are we just fucking with Matt? And everyone said no, he is a dad of young kids who does shift work. He drinks a lot of coffee (we all did, the coffee machine was perpetual employee of the month), and he prefers to have it room temperature because he won’t feel it burn his mouth. So any time a pot sat on the burner for more than a few hours, we’d dump it into Matt’s pot and let it cool.
I always wondered if it fucked up his stomach, because I know stale coffee always gives me heartburn, but we weren’t close enough to have those conversations.