You can’t order hot chocolate as an adult, and other unspoken coffee rules

We’re sorry, this feature is currently unavailable. We’re working to restore it. Please try again later.

Advertisement

Opinion

You can’t order hot chocolate as an adult, and other unspoken coffee rules

One of the great joys of working in an office is leaving the office and getting coffee with a colleague. It’s a moment of tiny protest, a reminder that your time is still yours (it’s not), and proof that you can still do whatever you please, whenever you please.

More importantly, it’s over coffee outings that work friendships are born, grievances are shared, secrets traded, and personalities revealed. How quickly a relative stranger can become a close confidant when you learn you both love long blacks and hate the weird guy in sales.

However, occasionally, this act of bonding can backfire; you cross the coffee threshold with a colleague only to realise they’re not the person you thought they were. Last week, while venturing out for a first-time coffee with a soon-to-be new work friend, I did the honourable thing and offered to pay.

Ordering a long black doesn’t make you a good person, but having a hot chocolate does make you a bad person.

Ordering a long black doesn’t make you a good person, but having a hot chocolate does make you a bad person. Credit: Michael Howard

After ordering my regular normal person drink, a large soy flat white, I asked what they’d like, to which they replied: “Can I get a hot chocolate?” Can you? Yes. Should you? Absolutely not.

Sensing my hesitation, my colleague explained that they didn’t like the taste of coffee but also didn’t like missing out on going for coffee, so could they please still have the hot chocolate and maybe a marshmallow?

Whether rightly or wrongly, some things are simply unavailable to us when we become adults. If I had my way, I would still be able to wear a backwards hat and use the word “YOLO,” but unfortunately, this would be embarrassing for everyone involved — in much the same way a grown man ordering a child’s drink might be.

To make matters worse, the barista, a very cool Brazilian guy whom I inexplicably felt the need to impress, was so shocked by the order that he asked me to repeat it twice: “Hot chocolate, wait, do you mean a mocha?”

Admittedly, a mocha would have been a slight improvement, but even then, it’s an order that tells the world you are not a serious person. If hot chocolate is for children, mocha is the drink of choice for teens, what you order when you’re not prepared to confront the bitterness of real life, or real coffee.

Advertisement

I appreciate that, to some people, this ranking system may sound insane, but Australian coffee culture is celebrated globally because we don’t value gimmicks. While Americans are drowning in creme brulee cappuccinos and cookie batter lattes (a Starbucks product that actually exists), we’ve developed a no-fuss hierarchy that is easy to navigate.

Long black drinkers are highly regarded because they desire to keep things simple, efficient, and straightforward. No milk, no foam, no fun, just scalding hot water and a shot of espresso. Sure, we may secretly wonder if they’re a bit psychotic, but it’s a fear born out of respect. Conversely, the iced long black is viewed with scepticism; can you trust someone willing to pay $7 for ice, water, and coffee?

Where does you drink of choice rank in the unofficial coffee hierarchy?

Where does you drink of choice rank in the unofficial coffee hierarchy?Credit: Animation — Marija Ercegovac

Flat white lovers are friends to all, a sensible order that has quietly become one of our greatest culinary exports. Travel anywhere around the world, and you will find expats who know exactly which cafe in their area can recreate our national drink of choice.

While the latte found itself caught up in an ideological war for a while, conservatives using the term ‘inner city latte-sippers’ to denigrate the left, no one really cares any more if you want a little extra froth in your morning hit. The same can’t be said for the cappuccino, however, which is fine if you’re over sixty, but otherwise, you shouldn’t require a dusting of chocolate to get by.

Sadly, the goodwill that surrounds the zero-alcohol movement does not exist in coffee circles, and ordering decaf remains an embarrassing thing to do. You’re better off accepting your fate and transitioning to the tea community, which is famously far more welcoming (albeit not as fun).

Finally, the matter of milk. Once upon a time, people would lower their voices when ordering an oat latte or an almond cap, but the sheer popularity of milk alternatives has seen that fall away. That being said, my father-in-law still finds it hilarious that I opt for soy milk rather than full cream, further confirming his suspicions my estrogen levels are too high.

Ultimately, I decided against reporting my hot chocolate colleague to HR after we found common ground in agreeing that people who use coffee slogans – Don’t talk to me until I’ve had my coffee! Sip Happens! – should be punishable by death. Perhaps this was going to be the start of a beautiful new friendship after all. But first, coffee.

Find more of the author’s work here. Email him at thomas.mitchell@smh.com.au or follow him on Instagram at @thomasalexandermitchell and on Twitter @_thmitchell.

Find out the next TV, streaming series and movies to add to your must-sees. Get The Watchlist delivered every Thursday.

Most Viewed in National

Loading