“Robusta not Arabica.”
Red Elvis and I are living in a small room in Bangkok. I refer to it as a cave. He’s a bit more generous with his description. He calls it a cell. Cell or cave it makes no difference, and like any good prisoner we need to get creative and improvise, or else, go mad.
Now I’ve gone mad before, and to tell you the truth I think madness is a bit over rated. Sure you can get away with a lot of stuff, but when you’re ready to punch your alter ego in his big fat foreign nose, and then you realize that the same alter ego is indeed you, you’re in a bunch of trouble, madness wise.
This is how we prisoners/cave dwellers make coffee, so as to stretch our ever shrinking supply of ‘greenbacks,’ because when you’re let out for a few hours to stretch the legs you need some money for a few cold beers.
It’s really not bad coffee, and at 3.50 (US) for 500 grams (close to a pound), it’s a very good deal. Suc Song Ca Phe Robusta (Vietnam), and during my Cambodian days I lived on this stuff, going mad in a good way.