The Swiss Water Process

Monsoon Coffee

     The British became infatuated with coffee during the 1600s. India subsequently began shipping coffee beans off the Malabar coast on a six-month long voyage nearly halfway around the world to keep up with England's exponentially growing demand. Of course, this was before there was such a thing as "air-tight" or "vacuum-sealed," rather the beans were exposed to the saturated monsoon air. They soaked up the moisture and swelled to about twice their usual size, thus (and quite to the people's delight) eliminating its acidity. This made for a mellow flavor, free of the biting, sour bitterness the British were so accustomed to.

     Was it perhaps an act of divine intervention? Did the coffee gods come down and blow the torrential monsoon winds upon the beans to make them even sweeter? Or was it simply a happy accident of nature? Who knows. If you ask me, it sounds like a health code violation, because a bunch of wet beans sitting for six months makes for a lot of mold as far as I know, but apparently I'm wrong, because Malabar Monsoon Coffee Beans are still sold and consumed to this day. The process, however, has been modified since the 1600s.
     Today, Monsoon Coffee is replicated by setting raw beans out in storehouses that are open on all sides, immersing the beans in the humid monsoon air. As a result, the unpleasant acidic qualities are absent from the bean after a good twelve to sixteen weeks of soaking up the moist monsoon air. The beans become a distinctly yellow color, as you can see. Crazy, right? Who woulda thought. Monsoon coffee... I mean it doesn't get more exotic than that.

Upcycled Coffee Sacks

Click the picture to visit original website. I got all these from Etsy.

Obscure Coffee Terminology

There will be a quiz, so take notes. (And yes, you will be graded on spelling.)

ESPRESSO DRINKS & TERMINOLOGY:
Espresso: Notice, there is no 'x' in espresso. If you're new to coffee this may just blow your mind. Espresso refers to the extraction method, invented in Italy at the turn of the century, which involves forcing highly pressurized very hot water, through much finer grinds that drip coffee, at a very precise rate. This process, if done right, allows the beans to reach full creamy delectable potential.
Espresso Ristretto: Strongest, most concentrated espresso extraction (literally "restricted" in Italian), resulting in 3/4-1 ounce of espresso per (single) shot, which is considerably shorter than the traditional pull/draw

Espresso Crema: If you don't see a thick creamy caramel crema atop your espresso (as seen to the right), you got a shitty shot. Or else, you left it sitting too long, and the crema dissolved/evaporated. If you're on bar, always make sure your bussers run the tiny drinks first, because if you let espresso sit, it will go flat. It's best in the first, like, thirty seconds. Best you wait right next to the barista to retrieve your espresso instantly.
Espresso con Panna: A shot of espresso topped with whipped cream
Espresso Macchiato: A shot of espresso topped with a dollop of foam
Latte Macchiato: As seen to the left, the same as a latte (see below) but with a floated shot--so instead of pouring your milk over the shot, you'd pull your shot into a cup of steamed milk. It looks neat in a lear glass, but doesn't allow for a fancy leaf design.
(Café) Mocha: A double shot of espresso over chocolate, mixed with steamed milk
(Caffè) Latte: A double shot of espresso, plus steamed milk, and topped with a quarter inch or so of foam
Caffè Amaretto: Latte with almond syrup
Café Con Leche: Double shot of espresso, plus about 8 oz. of hot milk
Café au Lait: Half drip coffee, half steamed (foamy) milk
(Caffè) Americano: A double shot of espresso diluted with hot water. About equal in strength to a cup of drip coffee, except better, because of the crema.
Cafe Noir: French for Black Coffee, which is simply drip coffee with no cream or milk.
Cappuccino: Traditionally 1/3 espresso (2 oz.), 1/3 steamed milk (2 oz.), 1/3 foam (2 oz.) This makes for a pretty tiny drink, except in the US they come in 12, 16, even 20 ounces, thanks to Starbucks, who ridiculously calls this size venti, Italian for twenty ounces, as though anyone in Italy would ever order such a colossal cappuccino. By the way, a "large cappuccino" and a "foamy latte" are the same exact thing as far as your barista is concerned. Stop trying to sound like you know what you're taking about. Anyway, drinks like cappuccinos and macchiatos that people order for the sake of their foam, really need to be run to their tables right away, just like espresso. Because foam evaporates into this crazy sponge-like consistency after a minute.
Gibraltar: 5 oz. beverage served in a glass, 2 oz. espresso, 3 oz. foamy milk, typically under 120 degrees. (See image to the right)
Red-Eye/Depth-Charge: Drip coffee with a shot of espresso. Technically, I'm pretty sure a depth-charge refers to a beer with a shot of Jack. A customer told me that once, anyway.
Dirty Chai: Chai latte with a shot of espresso
CHILLED DRINKS:
Coffee Granita: Shaved ice made from frozen milk, sugar and espresso.
Caffè Freddo: Espresso over ice; chilled espresso

DRINK MODIFICATIONS:
Wet: Very little foam, if any at all. Usually people just say no foam if they want no foam whatsoever, but I usually ask just to clarify, whether they want very little or none at all.
Dry: Mostly, or all foam. In the case of a latte, dry just means extra foam, but in the case of a cappuccino, it usually means all foam, no milk at all, in which case the barista scoops the foam instead of free pouring it.
Bone Dry: Super dry. And make sure you get it right, because if your customer's picky enough to order it bone dry, they're likely to complain. Trust me, I know.
Skinny: Skim, nonfat milk
Breve: Half and half, instead of milk... if you dare.
Long or Short Pull: Refers to how long the shot is pulled, and how much water is pulled through it. The standard shot is between 18 and 25 seconds. Some people prefer a stronger short pulled, no longer than ten, twelve or fifteen seconds (which is like, one drop, by the way), and others prefer a shot pulled up to forty-five seconds, or even a minute, but it just tastes watered down to me. Long pulls often occur if you're working a manual machine (your shots aren't automatically times) and you walk away and forget you're pulling a shot, which I've done more than a few times.
Single, Double, Triple, or Quad Shot: Refers, obviously, to how many shots someone wants. Single (solo), and double (doppio) are most common. Don't get a triple or quad unless you're really sleep-deprived or hung over. Over-caffeinating can kill, I'm pretty sure...
Split/Half-Caf: Half decaf, half regular. I've seen a lot of baristas pack one portafilter regular, and another one completely decaf, and then take a single shot from each to make a double-shot half-caf drink. This is ridiculous and insane! It's also a waste of time and beans. Instead, take one portafilter, fill it halfway with decaf grinds, and half with regular. Voila. It's common sense, guys.

COFFEE BEANS:
Robusta Beans: More common, highly caffeinated family of coffee bean. Flavor is harsher than the Arabica bean, not nearly as sought-after.
Arabica Beans: Less caffeinated, less acidic strand of coffee, generally considered to produce a superior bean
Espresso Beans: Again, espresso refers to the extraction process, not the bean. However, many roasters classify certain beans as espresso because they are roasted specifically to be used for espresso.
Decaf Beans: Decaf beans do not come from a decaf coffee plant, there is no such thing. All coffee beans come caffeinated, and the caffeine may later be extracted, using the Swiss Water Process, and the caffeine removed is then used to make things such as aspirin. Weird right?
Hard Bean: Grown at relatively high altitude (4000-4500 ft above sea level). Beans at this altitude mature more slowly, making for denser, more desirable beans.
Soft Bean: Coffee grown at low altitudes (under 4,000 ft); generally result in lighter flavor
Peaberry Beans: A typical coffee cherry contains two beans, however, some only contain one, and these beans are often separated, and sold for a higher price.
Green Coffee Beans: Raw, unprocessed coffee beans, believed to possess the power of weight-loss. See my earlier post (Magic Beans) for more details.

ROASTING:
Light Roast: No oil on surface of beans which are light cinnamon in color, also lighter in flavor, and allow flavor of origin to come through. Like popcorn, one knows a light roast is ready shortly after the "first crack" as they call it, or when the beans begin to pop open and expand (obviously not to the same extent as corn does).

Medium Roast: Very little oil, if any. Chocolatey color bean. Fuller body at expense of some acidity.

Dark Roast: Almost black, very oily beans. Low acidity, more of a smokey, charcoal kind of flavor. Once fully roasted, the beans lose all their inherent flavors.

French Roast: Essentially, double roasted, or roasted until the beans begin to smoke, well after the "second crack." Makes for a sweeter, smokier flavor.

EXTRACTION CONTRAPTIONS:
Pour-Over/Drip: One can either drip coffee in a machine, or else you can do it by hand using for example a Chemex, Melitta or V60 pour over, or one of those Costa Rican coffee drippers that come with a sac and a wooden stand, as seen to the right.
Percolator: Those cute little two-chamber stovetop espresso makers, those are percolators. They function not unlike the siphon [below], by placing the percolator on the heat source, forcing the water vapor to pass through a valve into the upper chamber. The water saturates the coffee grounds and passes back through a metal filter into the lower half.
Siphon: Anti-gravity double-chamber brewer that is heated over a burner, allowing hot water to pass through a filter into the upper chamber, which contains fresh coffee grounds, of course. After meticulous stirring and steeping, the heat source is removed, and the coffee in the upper chamber drains downward, back through the filter into the bottom. Popular amongst coffee nerds the world over.
French Press: Ironically, there is some controversy as to whether the press pot is indeed French in origin, or if the cafetiere was in fact first conceived in Italy. Either way, it's a simple idea, you just steep your coffee grinds in hot water for some time, then plunge the screen downward. Plus, if you can't afford an espresso machine, the press pot can secretly also be used to make pretty decent mock-steamed milk. All you need to do is remove the glass from the metal exterior and heat the milk up in the microwave. Once it's hot you can reassemble your press pot, and plunge it up and down a good twenty-five times, causing it to froth up and expand. (Make sure you leave yourself enough room to actually stretch your milk. Never fill it initially.)

TECHNICAL ESPRESSO MACHINE STUFF:

Portafilter: As you can see to the right, the portafilter is the part of the machine used to actually pull the shot. It is removed by the handle, twisted to the left to release from its socket.
     When not in use, the portafilter must remain in the machine to retain its heat. The slightest temperature change affects how the shot pulls, which subsequently effects the taste, so every little thing matters.
     To put the portafilter back, the barista lines up the little ears with the slots in the machine, and twists to the right to lock it. If the shot pulls and only one ear went in its slot, and the portafilter is tilted, the highly pressurized, piping hot water will erupt all over the barista, so beware. Make sure it's in nice and snug, except don't slam it in too tight or you'll wear those parts out faster, and they'll need to be replaced.
     The picture to the right is a portafilter from a La Marzocco, my first machine. Notice the little lion detail where the metal and rubber meet. So cute...
Basket: The basket that sits in the portafilter is the part that you fill with coffee, as you can see to the left. Must be popped out and cleaned, routinely throughout the day!

Falling in Love, Over a Cup of Coffee

     Today's V-Day, the best or worst day of the year, depending on the current state of your love life (or lack thereof). To be honest I forgot about it,  because really, if you love someone you better love them every damn day.

     Anyway, I've always thought of a coffee shop as a perfect spot to fall in love. You know? Such a romantic atmosphere... the dim lights, some old guy with a mustache puffing a cigar and reading a newspaper, (alright, maybe not smoking because you can't smoke in most American coffee shops, but he might as well be for the sake of the imagery, okay?) and then you spot him/her across the room, skimming a book and sipping a cappuccino, and you flash those seductive coffee shop eyes at him/her while you wait for your coffee, and he/she gets up to refill his or her water, or add some sugar to his or her coffee, because it's suddenly not sweet enough, and one of you says "hello" and voila, love is born.

     So if you're lonely and looking to fall in love, just hang out in a coffee shop, looking as attractive, single and lonely as possible. Just be careful to pick the right coffee shop, because the quality of coffee directly correlates to the quality of people consuming it. For instance, Starbucks sacrificed standards for speed (I'm sorry, efficiency), perfect if you're just lookin' for a quickie--a disposable boy to go with a disposable cuppa joe. But if you're looking for a quality boy or girl... go to a place that serves quality coffee. Easy right? I should give professional dating advice... 
     Anyway, it's V-day, so whoever you've had your eye on, do something about it, boys and girls. Baristas, write your numbers on that regular's coffee cup. Cashiers, roll up a receipt-paper rose for that cute new busboy. Do something, I dare you, because people live longer when they're in love (that's a real fact... crazy right? I learned that in Communications yesterday), because when it comes down to it, who doesn't want to have someone to bring them a steamy cup of coffee in bed every morning for the rest of their life? Or hot chocolate, or tea, or whatever... a big fat, hot, steamy cup of love.

     But if you do decide to do something, just be careful what you say. One wrong word and you'll blow it, just like Betty and Bill. The following is a love story, a how-we-met story that occurs in  coffee shop. I didn't write it, David Ives did, but it's awesome and hilarious and clever as hell, and you'll love it, I promise... so here it is:

SURE THING

by David Ives

SETTING: A café table, with a couple of chairs.

Betty, reading at the table. An empty chair opposite her. Bill enters.

Bill: Excuse me. Is this chair taken?

Betty: Excuse me?

Bill: Is this taken?

Betty: Yes it is.

Bill: Oh. Sorry.

Betty: Sure thing. (A bell rings softly)

Bill: Excuse me. Is this chair taken?

Betty: Excuse me?

Bill: Is this taken?

Betty: No, but I'm expecting somebody in a minute.

Bill: Oh. Thanks anyway.

Betty: Sure thing. (A bell rings softly)

Bill: Excuse me. Is this chair taken?

Betty: No, but I'm expecting somebody very shortly.

Bill: Would you mind if I sit here till he or she comes?

Betty (glances at her watch): They seem to be pretty late.....

Bill: You never know who you might be turning down.

Betty: Sorry. Nice try, though.

Bill: Sure thing. (Bell)

Bill: Is this seat taken?

Betty: No it's not.

Bill: Would you mind if I sit here?

Betty: Yes I would.

Bill: Oh. (Bell)

Bill: Is this chair taken?

Betty: No it's not.

Bill: Would you mind if I sit here?

Betty: No. Go ahead.

Bill: Thanks. (He sits. She continues reading.) Everyplace else seems to be taken.

Betty: Mm-hm.

Bill: Great place.

Betty: Mm-hm.

Bill: What's the book?

Betty: I just wanted to read in quiet, if you don't mind.

Bill: No, sure thing. (Bell)

Bill: Everyplace else seems to be taken.

Betty: Mm-hm.

Bill: Great place for reading.

Betty: Yes, I like it.

Bill: What's the book?

Betty: The Sound and the Fury.

Bill: Oh, Hemingway. (Bell)

Bill: What's the book?

Betty: The Sound and the Fury.

Bill: Oh. Faulkner.

Betty: Have you read it?

Bill: Not ... actually. I've sure read about ... it though. It's supposed to be great.

Betty: It is great.

Bill: I hear it's great. (Small pause.) Waiter? (Bell)

Bill: What's the book?

Betty: The Sound and the Fury.

Bill: Oh. Faulkner.

Betty: Have you read it?

Bill: I'm a Mets fan, myself. (Bell)

Betty: Have you read it?

Bill: Yeah, I read it in college.

Betty: Where was college?

Bill: I went to Oral Roberts University. (Bell)

Betty: Where was college?

Bill: I was lying. I never really went to college. I just like to party. (Bell)

Betty: Where was college?

Bill: Harvard.

Betty: Do you like Faulkner?

Bill: I love Faulkner. I spent a while winter reading him once.

Betty: I've just started.

Bill: I was so excited after ten pages that I went out and bought everything else he wrote. One of the greatest reading experiences of my life. I mean, all that incredible psychological understanding. Page after page of gorgeous prose. His profound grasp of the mystery of time and human existence. The smells of the earth ... What do you think?

Betty: I think it's pretty boring. (Bell)

Bill: What's the book?

Betty: The Sound and the Fury.

Bill: Oh! Faulkner!

Betty: Do you like Faulkner?

Bill: I love Faulkner.

Betty: He's incredible.

Bill: I spent a whole winter reading him once.

Betty: I was so excited after ten pages that I went out and bought everything else he wrote.

Bill: All that incredible psychological understanding.-

Betty: And the prose is so gorgeous.

Bill: And the way he's grasped the mystery of time 

Betty: and human existence. I can't believe I've waited this long to read him.

Bill: You never know. You might not have liked him before.

Betty: That's true.

Bill: You might not have been ready for him. You have to hit these things at the right moment or it's no good.

Betty: That's happening to me.

Bill: It's all in the timing. (Small pause.) My name's Bill, by the way.

Betty: I'm Betty.

Bill: Hi.

Betty: Hi. (Small pause.)

Bill: Yes I thought reading Faulkner was ... a great experience.

Betty: Yes. (Small pause.)

Bill: The Sound and the Fury ... (Another small pause.)

Betty: Well. Onwards and upwards. (She goes back to her book.)

Bill: Waiter ? (Bell)

Bill: You have to hit these things at the right moment or it's no good.

Betty: That's happened to me.

Bill: It's all in the timing. My name's Bill, by the way.

Betty: I'm Betty.

Bill: Hi.

Betty: Hi.

Bill: Do you come in here a lot?

Betty: Actually I'm just in town for two days from Pakistan.

Bill: Oh, Pakistan. (Bell)

Bill: My name's Bill, by the way.

Betty: I'm Betty.

Bill: Hi.

Betty: Hi.

Bill: Do you come here a lot?

Betty: Every once in a while. Do you?

Bill: Not much anymore. Not as much as I used to. Before my nervous breakdown. (Bell)

Bill: Do you come in here a lot?

Betty: Why are you asking?

Bill: Just interested.

Betty: Are you really interested, or do you just want to pick me up?

Bill: No, I'm really interested.

Betty: Why would you be interested in whether I come in here a lot?

Bill: Just ... getting acquainted.

Betty: Maybe you're only interested for the sake of making small talk long enough to ask me back to your place to listen to some music, or because you've just rented some great tape for your VCR, or because you've got some terrific unknown Django Reinhardt record, only all you'll really want to do is fuck which you won't do very well after which you'll go into the bathroom and pee very loudly, then pad into the kitchen and get yourself a beer from the refrigerator without asking me whether I'd like anything, and then you'll proceed to lie back down beside me and confess that you've got a girlfriend named Stephanie who's away at medical school in Belgium for a year, and that you've been involved with her off and on in what you'll call a very "intricate" relationship, for about seven YEARS. None of which interests me, mister!

Bill: Okay. (Bell)

Bill: Do you come in here a lot?

Betty: Every other day I think.

Bill: I come in here quite a lot and I don't remember seeing you.

Betty: I guess we must be on different schedules.

Bill: Missed connections.

Betty: Yes. Different time zones.

Bill: Amazing how you can live right next door to somebody in this town and never even know it.

Betty: I know.

Bill: City life.

Betty: It's crazy.

Bill: We probably pass each other in the street every day. Right in front of this place, probably.

Betty: Yep.

Bill (looks around): Well, the waiters here sure seem to be in some different time zone. I can't seem to locate one anywhere ... Waiter! (He looks back.) So what do you (He sees that she's gone back to her book.)

Betty: I beg pardon?

Bill: Nothing. Sorry. (Bell)

Betty: I guess we must be on different schedules.

Bill: Missed connections.

Betty: Yes. Different time zones.

Bill: Amazing how you can live right next door to somebody in this town and never even know it.

Betty: I know.

Bill: City life.

Betty: It's crazy.

Bill: You weren't waiting for somebody when I came in, were you?

Betty: Actually, I was.

Bill: Oh. Boyfriend?

Betty: Sort of.

Bill: What's a sort-of boyfriend?

Betty: My husband.

Bill: Ah-ha. (Bell)

Bill: You weren't waiting for somebody when I came in, were you?

Betty: Actually, I was.

Bill: Oh. Boyfriend?

Betty: Sort of.

Bill: What's a sort-of boyfriend?

Betty: We were meeting here to break up.

Bill: Mm-hm ... (Bell)

Bill: What's a sort-of boyfriend?

Betty: My lover. Here she comes right now! (Bell)

Bill: You weren't waiting for somebody when I came in, were you?

Betty: No, just reading.

Bill: Sort of a sad occupation for a Friday night, isn't it? Reading here, all by yourself?

Betty: Do you think so?

Bill: Well sure. I mean, what's a good-looking woman like you doing out alone on a Friday night?

Betty: Trying to keep away from lines like that.

Bill: No, listen (Bell)

Bill: You weren't waiting for somebody when I came in, were you?

Betty: No, just reading.

Bill: Sort of a sad occupation for a Friday night, isn't it? Reading here all by yourself?

Betty: I guess it is, in a way.

Bill: What's a good-looking woman like you doing out alone on a Friday night anyway? No offense, but ...

Betty: I'm out alone on a Friday night for the first time in a very long time.

Bill: Oh.

Betty: You see, I just recently ended a relationship.

Bill: Oh.

Betty: Of rather long standing.

Bill: I'm sorry (Small pause.) Well listen, since reading by yourself is such a sad occupation for a Friday night, would you like to go elsewhere?

Betty: No ...

Bill: Do something else?

Betty: No thanks.

Bill: I was headed out to the movies in a while anyway.

Betty: I don't think so.

Bill: Big chance to let Faulkner catch his breath. All those long sentences get him pretty tired.

Betty: Thanks anyway.

Bill: Okay.

Betty: I appreciate the invitation.

Bill: Sure thing. (Bell)

Bill: You weren't waiting for somebody when I came in, were you?

Betty: No, just reading.

Bill: Sort of a sad occupation for a Friday night, isn't it? Reading here all by yourself?

Betty: I guess I was trying to think of it as existentially romantic. You know cappuccino, great literature, rainy night ...

Bill: That only works in Paris. We could hop the late plane to Paris. Get on a Concorde. Find a café...

Betty: I'm a little short of plane fare tonight.

Bill: Damn it, so am I.

Betty: To tell you the truth, I was headed to the movies after I finished this section. Would you like to come along? Since you can't locate a waiter?

Bill: That's a very nice offer but ...

Betty: Uh-huh. Girlfriend?

Bill: No, I don't have a girlfriend. Not if you mean the castrating bitch I dumped last night. (Bell)

Betty: Girlfriend?

Bill: Sort of. Sort of.

Betty: What's a sort-of girlfriend?

Bill: My mother. (Bell)

Bill: I just ended a relationship, actually.

Betty: Oh.

Bill: Of rather long standing.

Betty: I'm sorry to hear it.

Bill: This is my first night out alone in a long time. I feel a little bit at sea, to tell you the truth.

Betty: So you didn't stop to talk because you're a Moonie, or you have some weird political affiliation ?

Bill: Nope. Straight-down-the-ticket Republican. (Bell) Straight-down-the-ticket Democrat. (Bell) Can I tell you something about politics? (Bell) I like to think of myself as a citizen of the universe. (Bell) I'm unaffiliated.

Betty: That's a relief. So am I.

Bill: I vote my beliefs.

Betty: Labels are not important.

Bill: Labels are not important, exactly. Like me, for example. I mean, what does it matter if I had a two-point at (bell) three-point at --(bell)-- four-point at college, or if I did come from Pittsburgh --(bell)-- Cleveland --(bell)-- Westchester County?

Betty: Sure.

Bill: I believe a man is what he is. (Bell) A person is what he is. (Bell) A person is ... what they are.

Betty: I think so too.

Bill: So what if I admire Trotsky? (Bell) So what if I once had a total-body liposuction? (Bell) So what if I don't have a penis? (Bell) SO what if I once spent a year in the Peace Corps? I was acting on my convictions.

Betty: Sure.

Bill: You can't just hang a sign on a person.

Betty: Absolutely. I'll bet you're a Scorpio. (Many bells ring) Listen, I was headed to the movies after I finished this section. Would you like to come along?

Bill: That sounds like fun. What's playing?

Betty: A couple of the really early Woody Allen movies.

Bill: Oh.

Betty: Don't you like Woody Allen?

Bill: Sure. I like Woody Allen.

Betty: But you're not crazy about Woody Allen.

Bill: Those early ones kind of get on my nerves.

Betty: Uh-huh. (Bell)

simultaneously

Bill: Y'know I was headed to the Betty: I was thinking about 

Bill: I'm sorry.

Betty: No, go ahead.

Bill: I was going to say that I was headed to the movies in a little while, and ...

Betty: So was I.

Bill: The Woody Allen festival?

Betty: Just up the street.

Bill: Do you like the early ones?

Betty: I think anybody who doesn't ought to be run off the planet.

Bill: How many times have you seen Bananas?

Betty: Eight times.

Bill: Twelve. So are you still interested? (Long pause.)

Betty: Do you like Entenmann's crumb cake ...?

Bill: Last night I went out at two in the morning to get one. (Small pause.) Did you have an Etch-a-Sketch as a child?

Betty: Yes! And do you like Brussels sprouts? (Small pause.)

Bill: I think they're gross.

Betty: They are gross!

Bill: Do you still believe in marriage in spite of current sentiments against it?

Betty: Yes.

Bill: And children?

Betty: Three of them.

Bill: Two girls and a boy.

Betty: Harvard, Vassar, and Brown.

Bill: And will you love me?

Betty: Yes.

Bill: And cherish me forever?

Betty: Yes.

Bill: Do you still want to go to the movies?

Betty: Sure thing.

Bill and Betty (together): Waiter!

(Blackout.)