Fifty Shades of Earl Grey

I awake with a cold shiver. The heating is off and my breath is visible above my duvet. I feel unsettled and unsure of what I need. My startled, just-awake brain starts booting up and I realise what I desire. I can hear it calling me from the kitchen cupboard like a siren enticing me to the rocks. I shuffle into my pyjamas under the duvet, with the snuggley sheet keeping my prickly, pimpled skin warm.

I move the duvet aside and I slowly make my way towards the kettle. It’s already full; before bedding down for the night I had sensed the urge was coming, and filled the pot in anticipation. I turn the heat up to max and the water starts bubbling. Unable to wait, I pour the half boiled water into my mug and the teabag floats gently to the surface. As it's life leaks into the fluid, Brownian motion takes over, and madness ensues.

Reds become darker and it slowly turns brown - you can tell it’s almost brewed. I give it one last squeeze against the walls of my cup to empty the reserves. I realise that no matter how hard I try, there is always room for one more squeeze. One more push of tea that I’ll eventually swallow. But not in here, not like this.

My hand shakes as I reach for the tall tumbler. I grip it with resolve and open the tap, filling it deliberately. I give a wry smile as I submit to my wild side. I let the moment overcome me and release the tea bag into the cool ocean. It relishes the opportunity and splashes uncontrollably, causing havoc. The now murky waters are a delight to behold.

I tentatively raise the cold tea to my mouth. I’ve done this before but never like this, never without preparing. Never on a school night. I let the aroma envelop me and I wash it around my mouth and soothe it into my stomach. I am lost. I am free. I feel everything and nothing at the same time and my voice has vanished. The silent ecstasy is empowering and unsympathetic. I feel no shame or remorse, just bliss, pure unadulterated joy. It destroys me...

By the time the sensation passes, the sun is up. Had I really been doing it all night? I relish the pleasure of a feeling lasting an instant, that takes an age to enjoy.

The sun rarely lies though and I have a lot to do with this day. I clear up the mess, tip away the unwanted contents of the mug - I'm sorry for using you for such a purpose! I’m somewhat embarrassed by my exploits. How have I sunken this low? Is there something wrong with me to delight in such a sin?

The problem is that the shame is never enough. It’s over before it’s properly manifested and I move on. I think about the pleasure of the encounter throughout the day, the memory seeping into my taste buds like sugary candyfloss stuck to my teeth. I lick my lips and a wave of joy is released, enticing me to my next taste.

It’s the driving force that spurs me on at work and gives me comfort when I don’t get that promotion. It’s the reason I speed when I’m driving home and shout abuse at time-wasters. It’s what completes all my beverage concerns of any given day. It’s the breakfast of champions.

Read part one!

Fifty Shades of Tea

I had a very moving experience while doing a typically English thing - drinking tea. It all happened when I was a little bit inebriated and needed a nice refreshing cuppa. Please don’t judge me on what happened next – we all give in to temptation sometimes.

50 Shades of Tea

Romanteac, liberateang, and toteally addicteave, this is a story that will obsess you, possess you, and stay with you for ever.

I love making tea; the expectation and the excitement of what is to come. Nothing too much surprises me anymore but sometimes routine is as much fun as an adventure, far from the mundane that we are led to believe.

So here I am, standing in the kitchen, doing something typically English and oh-so familiar – boiling the kettle for a cuppa. And by cuppa, I mean English breakfast tea, served in a mug with a splash of milk.

The kettle is boiling and it’s all going swimmingly, until I notice it’s got slightly too much water in. I make the necessary calculations with ΔH_vap, UAΔT, etc but by the time I finish the sum and realise that I’m best off removing some of the water, thus allowing the kettle to boil faster, it’s already boiled and it is too late to change anything. It isn't all bad though as I have solved a Chem Eng puzzle in my head, keeping myself entertained while I wait, and now the boiling water is ready. Satisfied with my achievement, I pour the water gently onto the teabag and wait.

Moments earlier, I had poured a lovely glass of fresh, cool tap water, which is now sitting invitingly close to my cuppa. I firmly squeeze the tea bag, strengthening my brew, when a curious idea has the audacity to pop right into my head. It is such a blindingly obvious notion that I am unsure as to how I have never thought of this before, let alone performed it unconsciously from instinct. I spoon the teabag out of my hot tea and plop it into the glass of water.

As I do this, I hesitate; it’s a big decision. I pause, toil with the idea in my head, ask myself several questions. Why have I never done this before? Why has no-one ever told me I can do this? Is it some dirty secret that everyone keeps from each other? Is it dangerous?

My temperature is rising sharply with these dark thoughts but my mind keeps on racing. Should I be doing this? Who knows what will happen when I take a sip? Could I get hurt?

I start the adventure with what I am used to; the regular breakfast tea. I grab its big red spotty handle and am surprised by its warmth. As I grasp it firmly and draw it towards my mouth, the milky broth warms my hands, which runs up my arms, making me shiver at the pleasurable familiarity.

The first sip still surprises me. It’s nothing compared to the very first time and the excitement of the unknown, but I still take satisfaction from it. I gulp, I swallow, I gulp, I swallow. I gulp until my lips are red and sore. I swallow until my throat is soaking with fiery fluid. I gulp and swallow every last drip, and now I am ready for what is next.

I pick up the glistening glass, and with one look, I can tell it desires my lips. I go in quick, eager, like a teenage virgin, accidentally spilling some on my chest. I let the excitement take over me - I am experiencing, not thinking. It tastes sublime, everything I had hoped for, and I explode in an instant, quicker than expected.

My first experience...

This all happened a few days and I am a little embarrassed by my over-enthusiasm but I still look back on this experience with fondness. I am proud to have tried something so out-there, so unaccepted by common tea drinking folk. “A cool subtle charm, coupled with a refreshing quench” would be an appropriate tagline for this encounter. It was a contagious experience and I now wonder whether I will ever be able to stop myself from doing it again. I think everyone should try this and promote it, so please share this inspirational and downright dirtea idea.