Rummy

Upturned Noses—Even the most laid back and egalitarian among us can be insufferable snobs when it comes to coffee, music, cars, beer, or any other pet obsession where things have to be just so. What are you snobbish about?

Rummy

Forget my birthday or my name.
Beat me at my favorite game.
Insult my décor or my looks.
Ignore my artwork and my books.

Any coffee brand will do.
I am not snobbish about my brew.
If you must, you may be tardy.
Just serve me no rum but Bacardi!

If someone one day deemed to proffer
the finest Cuba has to offer,
there is no choice. I wouldn’t totter.
I’d just decline and ask for water!

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10 thoughts on “Rummy

  1. Marcy Erb

    Your lovely and funny poems are always a pick-me-up!

    (The picture’s a hoot too – especially the man that is photobombing it behind the bottle of rum).

    I am thoroughly addicted to coffee and although I’ll drink pretty much anything labeled coffee – there are definitely tiers within the coffee hierarchy. But I recently had all of those overturned when I was served a fantastic cup of coffee at a friend’s home and when I inquired about the fancy source (single origin? artisan roasted?), she proudly brought out the tin of Don Francisco supermarket $4/big tin coffee. So there you go!

    ~Marcy

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  2. loupmojo

    The picture made me laugh ut loud. What has that man got against a duck having a quick drinky? 😀 Also, I have never seen that brand of Bacardi before and it looks lovely.

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  3. Laura M.

    I just love everything about that photo. I’m not a huge rum fan (I favour the purple toothed approach to drinking). I am picky about my coffees, though. After many years of working in a coffee shop, lattes have to be juuuust so. BUT, since I can’t bear to be a picky-icky customer (having met my fair share), I just order a medium dark roast. Nothin’ doin’.

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    1. lifelessons Post author

      I have a whole series of pics of that duck getting into all sorts of trouble. He was a gift from a friend to a friend visiting from the states and got left behind, so until I could return Patito to his master in the states, he got into all sorts of trouble. He just seemed to suit this theme.

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      1. okcforgottenman

        I’m not so much Patito’s master as his parole officer. (That’s me photobombing his photo. It was WAY too early in the morning for that lil cuss to start imbibing!) He’s settled down a bit since he got to Missouri – or perhaps he’s just gotten craftier.

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