Today I’ve roamed the campus like an existential drifter. It turned out that 2/3 classes were non-existing (today) and that the third one (in about an hour) was 30 minutes late. So I’ve been to the chemistry building, this huge, underground place with very strange-looking allthough very polite scientists, reading up on my metaphysics, specifically the Identity thesis put forward by Parfit.
I’ve also mapped some of the coffee machines and what they provide for.
Your general Narvesen shop, which have the same machines as the student cafés, make generally good coffee. This is the way corporate coffee should be; tasting like the real thing. Then there’s the coin machines that gives you a small cup of coffee for 7 NOK (about 1 USD). The cup is small and very full, so you will probably spill it on yourself. Your intestines will thank you.
Because the outcome of the machines are very different. I don’t think this has got anything to do with the brand, since the machines are from the same supplier I presuppose that they have the same coffee innit, innit? So it has got to do with the maintenance, or rather (ugh!) the cleaning of the machines.
At the chemistry building you get a very nutty-tasting coffee. It taste like hazelnuts. Don’t ask. It is not bitter, though, and not sweet. Being a fan of black coffee, I can condone this one, even though I think the hazel-taste has got to do with a lack of cleaning. Or maybe the chemistry people just clean it with some homemade brew that could either clean coffee machines or wipe out an entire nation. They are mad scientists, remember.
My other location of purchase is the teaching-building, where future teachers and, not surprisingly, many young women hang around. This is one of my favourite spots. But the coffee here, I regret to say, is terrible. It wasn’t the first times around, and then there was a period of the machine being out of order, and now it tastes like the smell of burnt sugar. Yes. I had physical problems downing the 2-3 cups I had there today while waiting for my 2nd class which never came, I think my body detected some kind of malicious bacteriae in it.
The third, and by me – most used – location of attaining a cup of life saving caffeeine is the Faculty of Humanistic Studies to which I somehow belong. They have two machines standing right next to each other, which tells you that historians and philosophers drink alot of coffee. This is true. For reasons beyond my knowledge, I only use the machine to the right, though. I think it is a metaphysically preferred modus operandi that I’m just unconscious about. Anywho, the coffee here kicks ass. Too bad we ain’t got such a nice place to sit and drink it then, as down by the teacher students’ building. I like to sit and drink my coffee instead of standing up and getting half of it on the all the other parts of my person than my in mouth. (Hah! Take that you fetishists!)
I just thought I should share this with you, so you don’t have to end up like me, shaking like a leaf half an hour before an introductory lesson about Gadamer’s world-view, which really demands all your attention to be present and not in some caffeeinated hyperstate somewhere in the galaxy. I’ll probably have some more to say about this on a later date, when I’ve pushed my coffee ventures further, and mapped more machines.