This picture tells you what I'd expected.
The following picture describes what happened more effectively.
This wasn't a drink. This was a froth nightmare, a challenge, the kind you get on game shows.
There was an inch or so of coffee in the bottom of the tall glass, then the rest, about three feet of it, was thick, white, stiff froth.
I stirred with the straw I'd been given. Surely the coffee would mix with the froth.
The drink laughed. The straw bent.
I stirred again, faster.
The drink guffawed.
I fetched a spoon and began eating the froth, which stayed solid, like raw meringue mix. What do they add to it? Prittstick? The glue they put wounds back together with?
I stirred again, maniacally. This time, hope. Some of the brown coffee b…