We just can’t even when it comes to Renaissance expressions.
So when we sauntered through a Parisian museum of Renaissance art recently before our morning double Americano, we felt a deep connection to the tired, listless faces mirroring the paralyzing malaise of skipping coffee; the struggle is real, these tortured souls bellowed from the walls, for they knew swift death would greet them if they uttered such Millennial proverbs as ‘But first, coffee’ during an era of Black Death and guillotine.
Yes, these 12 unfortunate people of the Renaissance did not have their morning java…
No, no, young Vivarini, caffeine is still a drug.
For I shall opt for beheading before I drink tea over coffee.
It feels like I’ve been nailed to a cross when I don’t get my coffee in bed.
Damn it, out of milk again.
Not even this dog can bring joy to my life.
So they asked if decaf was OK.
The coffee tray, it just fell right out of my hand.
Someone get this man a low-fat soy milk macchiato!
Four devil-horned kids, no coffee: this is what hell looks like.
Drive-thru was closed.
Nespresso machine’s is broken again.
The moment you realize there’s no time for a coffee run before these expense reports are due.