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Black, right?

Thanks, I needed a good, strong cup.

When I set up an office in Sao Paulo, one of my biggest problems was to convince the secretaries that my coffee was to remain pure, unstained by either sugar or cream.

This went over fairly well, only they brought it to me in these horrid, little espresso cups. So I brought down a few good, adult sized American coffee mugs. "This," I declared, "is for coffee. Fill it up."

That concept took months to instill. I'd get a half a teaspoon in my large cup. Finally, I walked them all to the coffee machine and demonstrated a decent cup of coffee.

My secretary in Miami accused me of not drinking my coffee. She found that my cup was always half-full, and cold. This became a large issue, which I never resolved. It was incomprehensible that my coffee mug ought accompany my entire day. My complaint about coffee is that I always had over cigarettes: they went cold after a short while. I needed one to stay lit all day long.

Detente finally reigned, and I got my coffee refill, all the way to the top, regularly. They never ceased to ridicule me, though.