I’m Dating My Chemex®

I’m bad at dating. Really bad. I download and delete almost every dating app you can think of on my phone + computer at least twice a year. After all of that, I go on approximately zero dates. Maybe it’s my pessimistic outlook on going steady. Or perhaps it’s the not-so-blatant racism of social media apps that’s making it one of my top 10 failures in life. I’ll be sure to bring up these failures with online dating in my next job interview. The good news is I have enough pseudo-therapy practices to distract me from the real issues in my life. Before my 1990’s Disney movie love story comes true, I’ll just keep buying crystals and palo santo incense to burn my way out of courtship disappointment.

Sure there’s a lack of human connection, but love isn’t a complete loss for me. Thanks to the pandemic, I was able to take a chance and do something I been putting off for years. One day, I mustered up all the courage of my ancestors and fell for my first manual pour-over style glass coffeemaker. It was the best decision I made since I decided to keep going to predominately white schools to immerse myself in the reality of the oppressive American adult life. Now, I’m in a committed relationship with my Chemex®.

My Chemex® is a piece work with style, class, and history.

My Chemex® and their curvaceous family. www.chemexcoffeemaker.com

My Chemex® was born and raised in the “crossroads of New England” in Chicopee, Massachusetts, near the Connecticut River. I only traveled to Massachusetts once, so everything I imagine about the love of my life’s upbringing comes from encyclopedias and Matt Damon movies. My Chemex® is a piece work with style, class, and history. How do you like them apples? I suspect from their cultured popularity, I would say my Chemex® is a catch.

We met at a local coffee shop just a few blocks from my home in northeast Los Angeles, thanks to the pandemic, a place we will never visit again. I remember stepping inside one morning only to be greeted by the largest black labrador with an old, frayed pink harness. It was a beautiful dog, but she only received a moment of my attention because I was on a mission. I knew this is where I would find the love of my life because I saw them here a few times before. I had a handful of excuses why I didn’t go for them back then– not financially stable, fear of commitment, and preoccupation with cheap imitators. Not anymore. There they were, sitting against the counter like they owned the place. I was transfixed, and it only took a moment before we were spiritually joined together like a yoga housewife and her favorite pair of funky-ass leggings.

I’m sure someone probably thinks that we’re moving a little fast, but I brought them to live with me after the first date. How could I resist that curvaceous, hourglass-shaped flask or funnel neck dressed in a wooden collar and leathered rope? My Chemex® is the epitome of modern design, staying true to their vintage roots while embracing the nature of the millennial hipster culture.

We spent almost every morning of the pandemic together and a few late afternoons at the peak of liberal America’s rediscovery of racism and police brutality over the summer. Things would start to cool, and after a few minutes, it would be hot and steamy. I would gently wrap my hands around their neck, tip them over and watch them work. It’s magical. It’s our special bond– our moment.

Picture of my Chemex® daddy hard at work. www.chemexcoffeemaker.com

We are deeply in love, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have our share of insecurity. I wonder if being the famous child of German inventor Peter Schlumbohm gets to their head throughout our relationship. I literally place them on a pedestal day in and day out and use them when I’m feeling down or too weak to deal with my own problems. They’re my happy escape, and I welcome it. It may look like an addiction through a critical lens, but it’s true love to me. I’m in a committed relationship with my Chemex®.

Geez. Looking at what I have now, it doesn’t make sense why dating’s been hard for me.

Published by Myke Thompson

Myke Thompson is a humorist, storyteller, and an occasional piece of human trash who believes the best way to learn, educate, and experience the world is through the written word.

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