Frank

A Story by pdm

Setting the record straight

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Frank

I am just an ordinary man; yes, I will acknowledge that I'm 6' 10". Although my height is somewhat beyond the norm, it does not make me extraordinary. Still, I can not set foot out of my own home without people screaming and thundering away like a herd of buffalo looking to avoid extinction.

It is so difficult to restore a reputation once it has been destroyed. It's amazing how such a small, insignificant incident, such as getting a good cup of coffee, could be distorted beyond belief.

There are numerous movies which purport to be an account of my life, and there are even more books. These do not begin to compare to the stories people tell of me in secret.

For the most part, it's all lies. There are a few truths: my name is Frank, and sometimes I lose my temper. Yes, I've had some reconstructive surgery, but I'm no monster.

Now after years of rumor and ugly stories, it is past time to set the record straight. It all started because of a cup of coffee. I know how implausible that sounds, but it truly is that simple.

I had lived in New York City for many years. One day my boss came to me and said, "Frank, I want you to go to Germany to help open a new office in Berlin."

The coffee on the flight over to Germany was terrible, and the coffee at the airport in Berlin was horrid; moreover, the coffee at the hotel near the airport was beyond description. I dumped out the ‘so-called-coffee' and kept the stein that it had been served in. This was the beginning of my nightmare. Oh, have I forgotten to mention that I have a coffee fixation?

I can't remember how many places I visited trying to find a good cup of coffee. I stopped counting after the first day.

Withdrawal from caffeine addiction can be quite scary. My experiences may have been a bit on the extreme side, but it was not unprecedented. After four days with no coffee, I was getting desperate. I needed a good cup of coffee, and I was not going to take 'no' for an answer. So I entered one of the small cafes I had not yet visited.

It had rained all day, and the night was dark and gloomy. Also, I had forgotten my umbrella, so I entered the café looking like a drowned rat. My nerves were undoubtedly on edge. I slammed my stein on the counter and shouted, "Is there a good cup of coffee in the house?"

Well, some of the patrons look frightened, and a couple of people screamed and ran for the door. I didn't realize that demanding coffee could have such an effect. The manager was upset. He said, "What's your name?"

"My name is Frank."

He replied, "Frank, take your stein, get out of here, and don't come back."

So I stomped out of the café. All night I entered one café after another, hoping to find good coffee and leaving with only an empty stein.

It was only a few days later that I began to hear stories of Frank and his stein. At first, I found the stories amusing. But then the stories began to change. By the time I left Germany, Frank ‘n Stein had become a household name.

None of it is true. Honest, all I wanted was a good cup of coffee.