Coffee on a Saturday night

So I'm thinking about having a cup of coffee, man. Want one?

Thanks, but it'll keep me up late. It's almost 10 p.m., farmboy. Are you sure you want to drink coffee at this hour?

I shouldn't, but it's Saturday night, man, and...well, it's kind of my way of taking control, you know, being rebellious. I say no to myself all the time. So coffee on a Saturday night ain't too bad, I reckon.

It's funny, you know. So much of happiness depends on what kind of control you have over your own life and environment. I know it's fuckin' ridiculous to drink coffee at this time, especially for such a silly reason. But you know, I don't care. Because it's my choice.

(farmboy gets up to heat up water for coffee.)

I see what you mean, farmboy. It's important that we have choices and that we make choices. We're all individuals.

Yeah. This isn't that dangerous a choice. I mean, it's Saturday night and there's no work to go to tomorrow. And it's my choice. I'm gonna stay up till 2 a.m. anyway, I might as well have the coffee.

(farmboy grinds the beans and puts the ground coffee in the French press. He then pours the boiling water, stirs the coffee, and places the lid on the French press.)

That smells good, farmboy. Nothing like the smell of fresh coffee.

Especially when it feels forbidden. That's the best, man.