Cuppa

Why does coffee look so beautiful on screen? Because people aren't actually drinking it. There are no brown dribbles escaping under the lid and creating earthen watercolor streaks down the sides of the cup. There are no crusty lipstick-mixed-with-coffee lip prints on the cup, either. The lid remains white, like a meadow blanketed in freshly fallen snow.

You also can't smell the coffee breath through the screen. All the aroma, the pungence, the very humanity of consumption is wiped clean and cauterized. No smells, no smudges, no fumes.

And I love how coffee is never hot on screen, unless for a specific dramatic purpose, e.g. to burn someone. Other than that there are always scenes where a character is handed a fresh cup of coffee which they commence to slurp down as if it were juice from a bottle (sans dribbles, of course). Obviously they have asbestos tongues. Duh.

And somehow I find this alluring. Eating and drinking can be so poetic on screen. Bites, though fake, are artful. Sara Jessica Parker's character on Sex in the City can wolf down KFC when she's stoned and have neither greasy lips, nor red glassy eyes. Whole bottles of red wine are consumed in perfectly lit restaurants and the drinkers haven't the slightest tinge of "wine teeth". Bread crumbs politely stay out of laps. Chewing never hinders conversation, unless it is a ploy of the screenwriter to create an awkward moment.

I find the lack of reality, the contrivances, comforting. If I want reality all I have to do is lift my eyes and peer around the cafeteria or the restaurant I might be eating in. There one can feast the eyes on creamy droplets of salad dressing clinging to an oblivious chin, "see" food, or stubborn spinach lodged between teeth. It's animalia. And it's everywhere. I don't need to see it on screen, painfully close up . . . but I should disclose that I'm funny about mouths, up close, even if they're not eating.

Sometimes I wish for a movie moment when I buy coffee. There are no scalding drips bathing my hand. The coffee, even black like I like it, is at a perfectly drinkable temperature. And for some reason, my lipstick just won't stick to the lid. Not only that, but people, admirers and friends, will bring me such cups of coffee exactly when I need them, out of sheer camaraderie or adoration.