For all the tea in…Boston

Tea, quite literally is my lifeblood. If I were in the middle of the desert, parched, with a tongue so dry you could light a match on it, I would still want a cup of tea.

On a recent trip to the states, there was no place I wanted to visit more in the great city of Boston, MA, than the Boston Tea Party Museum. I was not disappointed. The theatrical entertainment was worth the price of entry alone and with the participation of a particularly enthusiastic audience member we had a great chuckle.

It was going well until my son got his finger trapped as we took our turn in hurling the tea overboard. Well, this was the tipping point – for him anyway, he was tired, hot, and crying so we decided, for everyone’s sanity to leave the museum tour early. We did mange to buy some cookies and some Boston Tea in a presentation box.

It was while at the museum that I am reminded of the beginning of my obsession with ensuring I have teabags to on any occasion, not matter where in the world I am.

It all started about eight years ago, on a weekend trip to Frankfurt. I was with a bunch of friends planning to explore the city both day and night – such was my age that late night shenanigans were given no thought about the consequences.

Sadly, things did not end up that way. I woke up with a bone aching cold, if I were at at I’d have stayed hidden under a blanket. Alas, being on holiday and not one to miss out, I wrapped up and trudged out into a drizzly grey day in Frankfurt. The weather entirely reflecting my mood and enthusiasm.

By lunchtime I was done. All I wanted was to be warm and comforted by a nice cup of tea. We piled into a coffee shop, shrugged off damp coats and hats, and waited to be served. When it was my turn to order I could feel my mouth salivating with the anticipation of good cup of tea.

‘Oh, sorry, we don’t sell English breakfast tea. We only have Earl Grey or Asaam.’ Came the reply from the german waitress.

‘Nooooooo.’ I was confused. How could this be? The brevity of tea options left me with no choice. I panicked. I ordered a latte. As the waitress left, tears began to roll down my cheeks. Bereft of my hug-in-mug, aching and cold the to bone I drew only fits of laughter from my so-called friends. Other customers stared at me but I still cried, then cried some more. My grief written all over my face.

As the mocking continued I still cried but then, like a chink of sunlight peeking through the grey clouds of my life, I began to laugh at how absolutely bloody pathetic I was being. To this day I am still mocked, friends are only good for reminding you of the memories you’d rather forget.

As you can tell, that memory is scorched in my mind. However, I learned a valuable lesson that, wherever I go, whatever I’m doing, I am sure to take a supply of good quality tea with me. For me, tranquility can always be found at the bottom of a good mug of tea. I am always disappointed if I stay somewhere that doesn’t have tea but I’ve grown up (a bit) since the Frankfurt incident.

I hope you enjoyed this little read. It was part of the Three Word Challenge I used to do. As I was starting out in this blogging/author world, I started out with a site called The Reluctant Writer. That site no longer exists but I used to accept challenges to write short stories using three random words generated by visitors to my site. This “humorous narrative” was requested by Ed Kaiser, and if you didn’t spot them, his requested words were SANITY, BREVITY, and TRANQUILITY. Thanks very much Ed!

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