The Last Milagro CupFenton R. Kay “You betcha, I’m proud...

The Last Milagro CupFenton R. Kay

 

 

“You betcha, I’m proud!“Sure, I sit here in this holder looking a little worn. The lettering on my side is chipped and sort of hard to read … but it’s there!“That’s what’s important; that’s why I’m proud. I’m in the holder, and you can see my label – Look, right there, MILAGRO Coffee y Espresso. What, you can’t quite read all that – hey … look harder – it’s there!“I’ve even got my original lid, and it still works.“What do you mean what’ve I got to be proud of – I’m just a coffee cup – that’s where you’re wrong, my friend – I’m not just another coffee cup! I’m a Milagro coffee cup. Who’s Milagro? They are the coffee shop across the street from the university. Look, friend, they are a high-class coffee joint. They roast their own coffee. The intelligentsia of Las Cruces hang out there. That’s who Milagro is.“Naw – I don’t remember being pressed out of a stainless-steel sheet or getting a handle – but, hey, do you remember being produced … I don’t think so. Molded plastic? What’s to remember? Ok, sorry, that was a mean shot.“My first recollection is when the box was opened, and I was taken out and put in the display rack. There I was, along with fifty nearly identical stainless steel travel cups… all of us shiny and proud … our lettering all new and clear … and no idea what was coming.“I had never tasted coffee at that point … didn’t even know what Coffee or Espresso was, but that didn’t matter; I was number 48 in a row of MILAGRO cups. I, no, we were destined for some great future; we just knew it.“A person came in, looked at the rows of us, then pointed at me. My life had begun.“I got put in the cup holder on the driver’s side – yes, I know – not everyone gets that place in a car – and it was mine alone. The car was a great little red Honda. Every morning, we drove into El Paso. I started every day filled to the brim with strong, black Milagro coffee. I ended every day empty and sitting on the counter in the kitchen. What more could a cup ask?“The years have gone by. We don’t make the regular trip into El Paso anymore. My person is retired. We go out in the car for groceries or visiting folks – oh, yeah, it’s now a tangerine Toyota Prius – YES! I still get filled every morning and often during the day with hot black or sometimes iced coffee. That is a change. Back in the early days, I would sit empty or almost empty in the car all day until we got home at night. Sometimes, I would get filled again, but usually not.“We still go out in the yard early in the morning in warm weather. We sit in the gazebo or on a bench under a mesquite and watch the birds. I especially like the hummingbirds. We have a lady hummer that defends her feeder with vigor. She drives off every other hummer that comes along – even the male and her young.“Yeah, well, he has almost lost me on one or two occasions. Usually, he would forget me, and I would spend the night on the glass-topped table in the gazebo. He would come out and get me the next morning, rinse me out, and refill me with coffee – then the routine would start again.“Those nights on the table were a little scary but always interesting. Once, a couple of coyotes jumped the wall and snooped around the yard. One of them came into the gazebo and sniffed me. I guess the smell of coffee — that I am now permeated with — disagreed with the coyote. It shook its head and sneezed all over me. A few minutes later, the coyotes jumped back over the fence when the dogs in the kennel realized they were there and set up a barking fuss.“Then there was the time I fell out of the cup holder and slid under the car seat. He couldn’t think where he might have left me. That was a lonely time. He got another cup. Then he found me again. The new cup went into the cupboard, and the cupholder was mine.“It’s been a good life for a traveling coffee cup. Yeah, my label is getting harder to read, and I’ve got a couple of dings in my side, but I still get filled to the brim with strong black coffee every morning. What more could a coffee cup ask?“We went into Milagro Coffee y Espresso the other day. First time in a long time. When my person handed me to the barista, she remarked, ‘Hey, I’ve never seen a Milagro cup like this one. This must be the very last one around.’ So, there you have it, I’m the last Milagro cup.”