I just drank about three quarters of a coffee that was apparently made with off milk. It tasted very foul.
I was a bit torn with what to do. Maybe I should have taken it back and said, 'hey no offence, but this tastes like warm, milky bile', but I just kept picturing the look in the eyes of my broken-hearted coffee lady, as our barista/customer relationship was tarnished forever.
But I couldn't just throw it out either. Not only was this three dollars of hard-earned coinage, but also my coffee hit for the day, the thing that would stop a morning headache coming on. I had to somehow push through the pain barrier.
So I kinda blocked my nose a bit, and guzzled, imaging I was Bear Grylls swilling some horrid concoction lovingly prepared by a remote jungle tribe. He'd say something stoic like 'it tastes unholy, but it will give me the much-needed energy and protein I need to scale that mountain over there'.
I made it through most of it, but kept the last bit for an experiment. I poured it carefully onto a little patch of grass, which I will revisit on Monday. I am expecting to see some kind of paranormal H.P Lovecraft tentacle monster to grow out of the accursed soil. If I live to see Monday.