Saturday, April 3, 2010

A Long Time Comin'

I have this routine in the morning. I'm an early riser. I'm up by 5:15am for a cock-crow run with the dogs through the park and by the river no matter the season or the weather. But before I go, I make coffee. I grind rich, dark, oily beans for a combination of a decaf and high-test drip brew along with a shot of espresso. These days I'm into Irving Farm beans. There's a couple of Irving Farm cafes in Manhattan and one in Millerton, a little Dutchess County berg with a great movie theater and the coolest sporting goods store around.

I was introduced to Irving Farm coffee by a pro-domme with whom I had a deliciously disasterous frolic. Sometimes, as I mill my perfect morning infusion, I'll absent mindedly and fondly flash on the frilly little red, yellow, and white apron we bought to accessorize my service that was hung on a hook in her kitchen and never used. Or her asking the Meatpacking waitress to top up my glass from the Voss bottle - tinged the faintest of golden. Or pleading with her to slash yet again and harder at my urgently offered upper thighs with the rough leather horse crop, as I deleriously wriggled on the polished pine strip floor of her Horatio Street studio in the throes of a two week stint of on-my-honor chastity.

I love a good cup of fine coffee in the morning.

But it's a ritual of process and transition, my morning routine. From sleep I spend fifteen minutes of labor over the literal daily grind. And this morning as I write these words I really have to remind myself that my life is in complete makeover mode. In a little over a week I learn my bar exam fate from the gods of grading. In four months I'll be in a new apartment. There's nothing like looking at real estate in Manhattan to make you feel like an inadequate slacker who has utterly failed to attain a remotely respectable level of financial firepower.

This week I was out at a work related meet and greet and met two attractive, divorced women. Despite a fun chemistry with one, my fet-detector told me she was clueless about kink. I woke up this morning festering that I'm just flat-out undatable. Who wants to deal with a workaholic, aging hipster of a submissive, who comes to a romantic little restaurant with a separation agreement, a domme in the Caribbean who he adores, and huge pile of debt. Oh come on! It'll be fun. You'll see.

But the french roast rites of an April dawn hold aromatic promise. After the grind, the exertion of the run; the stretches, crunches, pull-ups and downward dogs - I get my reward. I just have to keep the faith because ready or not - a change is gonna come.


Whizzer said...


It appears my run was just starting as yours ended. But, then again, I like to pour over a couple of newspapers with my fresh ground coffee before I head out the door. After all it's Saturday, so I get to sleep in a bit. Didn't get up until 6!

Sometimes our similarites scare me, brother.

Sounds like you're adjusting nicely. And when problems arise, just pound out that extra mile at the quickened pace and the troubles will be left in the dust. Plus you'll have sore, achy muscles to enjoy.

All the best.


advochasty said...


I think there are few problems in the world that caffeine and endorphins won't solve.

Gotta love the sore ache of an early spring run.

Great to hear from you.

Subdued said...


Nothing significant to add here other than I particularly enjoyed this post -- both the coffee recc and the point of view. As I've posted before, our lives share some similarities although not others, and it's always enlightening to read how you are handling things. Best of luck with the upcoming exam results -- Subdued

advochasty said...

Subdued -

Always a pleasure to have a comment from you. I liked the coffee metaphor and image as a memory of kink past. I'm feeling a tad kink deprived these days so it was nice to have the association surface, even if the kink experience wasn't one of my wisest.

It's nice to have the blog as a place to reflect on the tsunami of change that is about to engulf my life. Makes for good scrivener grist.

Take care!!

Christian said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Aarkey said...

Woops. I took off my cape by accident there for a sec ;)

It was mostly just a yada, yada, yada anyways ;)

advochasty said...

Holy Google identity Batman, I've almost done that a number of times. It's my OCD need to edit, proof, and preview every comment that has prevented it.

However, I myself enjoy a bit of the yada, yada, yada. Particularly your brand of yada.

Mistress Veronica NYC said...


I love you, darling. You know that. I'm not a demanding person, and only make criticisms where they are archly needed.

Which is why I canNOT abide, of all the versions of "Change is Gonna Come", that you chose Seal's???! Why, oh my goodness, why? The exemplary song of the Civil Rights Movement? By a Brit, for chrissake? That's completely nutter.

But I feel for you ol' chap, chin up.

advochasty said...

You know I respect your musical taste you dommy Idol judge you!!

I looked for Sam...I really did. I thought about how completely politically incorrect it was to use such a soulful socio-political cry of a ballad for my pitiful little problems. But I used it anyway.

As for Seal, tell me he doesn't have a great set of pipes and a cool looking scar.

Her Majesty's Plaything said...

Hi Advo:

Good to hear you are doing well and best of luck with your exam results! I know how those kinky memories can reach up and grab you seemingly from out of nowhere! Good stuff! ;-)

I am a devout coffee fetishist like you. We have a local roaster here in Philadelphia called Torreo. I grind my beans the night before and set my pot to go off before 6 a.m. That first cup in the morning is the best! Life's little pleasures make it worth living I swear! :-P

You sound like you're adjusting well to your new life. Best of luck with everything! :-)

Mistress Veronica NYC said...

I'm glad you noticed the ridiculousness of the comparison.

It's not a performance, but it's him...