Coffee, Anyone?

Who, in their lifetime, hasn't popped into a coffee shop to meet friends and loved ones, and after spending an hour or two drinking and gossiping, popped out again no worse for the experience?

Most of us.

But there have been times in the history of mankind, when the drinking of coffee meant a difference between getting that girl of your dreams and not getting her.

In the cold land of Lapp, in the month of January or February, the Lapp people had a habit of gathering together at one of those Fairs to make their last purchases before meeting again the next year.

But while the older folks where busy buying the odd reindeer or two, the young men were more happily engaged in checking out the female talents, for since time immemorial Fairs where always a great recreational grounds for matrimonial stakes.

When a Lapp boy hit upon the girl that suited him, it was usually the custom for the girl's family to invite him to their tent where, after sitting quietly for a while, the boy would ask if anyone would like a cup of coffee.

Immediately cups and saucers, together with the coffee pot and all other accoutrements needed for the brewing of coffee, would be produced by the girl's family, and the boy would set to. This was not your instant coffee time. You couldn't just say ‘one spoonful or two?' This was brewing your coffee; and not on an electric stove, either. It was usually boiling over an open fire at worst, and on top of a wood stove at best. But in any case, it was not the even temperature of the regulated form. It was very much in the lap of Vulcan, God of Fire. And as all other Gods agreed, not only did he have a fiery disposition, he wasn't particularly nice either.

However, whatever the temperature, sooner or later cups of hot coffee would be produced and placed in front of the waiting family. What would happen next would seal the lad's future.

If the coffee was drunk, the lad was deemed to be engaged and well on his way to be married. If the coffee remained untouched, the courtship was over before it had begun. The would-be groom might as well pack up his bags and return to the Fair, for there was nothing for him in this particular tent.

He would just have to try his luck with someone else, and hopefully his coffee-making skills would have improved enough for him to be more successful with his courtship the next time round. No feedback whatever. Was it too weak? Was it too strong? Was the coffee not brewed enough? Had he been clumsy? He would never be actually told what he had done wrong.