Most joke Twitters are wacky, innocuous little things, content to parody a celebrity or respond with a one-liner every time somebody mentions some buzzword (like the one that replies FART ROBOT APPROVES every time somebody tweets about farting.) They come and go and ultimately mean nothing except that the person behind the account probably doesn’t have a whole lot of interesting hobbies.
Then there’s the Coffee Dad account. He’s been around for a couple years now, constantly tweeting about coffee. Making it, drinking it, spilling it, running out of it, jacking off into the cup because store-bought cream is just the worst — that’s literally 99% of what he Tweets. But occasionally, he sends out something like this:
If you scroll through his timeline (he only has about a thousand Tweets, it won’t take you long), you’ll find a slow reveal of what happened to Coffee Dad’s son. If you’re too lazy to do that, then here’s the spoiler: He got drunk one night, rode his motorcycle, and died in a horrible accident. Dad grieves by sipping coffee all day every day.
That last part is what turns a goofy account with an unexpected dark side into perhaps the most existential, depressing Twitter aside from maybe Jaden Smith’s. Coffee Dad’s son died before the account launched, possibly long ago. Dad revealed the cause of his death in October of 2012, and no new information has come forth since.
And yet the account continues to update to this day, with absolutely nothing changing. Coffee Dad’s life doesn’t get better, nor does it really get worse. He’s just there, slowly sipping coffee and presumably staring at the wall in utter silence. Music? No chance. Music’s for people with souls, and Coffee Dad lost his long ago.
Occasionally, he bursts out in a fit of depression and self-loathing over his failure as a parent, and you wonder if this is finally the day that he throws himself into a giant bean grinder and ends it all. But it never happens. He just keeps on drinking his coffee, content to let his caffeine addiction eventually explode his heart. But only when it’s ready, not when he is. A failure like him doesn’t deserve to decide when his time on our worthless floating ball of dirt and rock ends.
Some months he’s quieter than others, but other times he’s all over the place, letting the world know that he’s drinking coffee, or possibly brewing it. Isn’t that how never-ending sadness works? Sometimes you’re a recluse, so quiet the local paper might well have printed your obituary. But sometimes you’re very much in the public eye, brazenly making the world aware of your continued existence. You might not enjoy still existing, but somehow it’s important that people realize you’re there.
I’m no swami, but I’m going to predict that Coffee Dad’s story will never change. He won’t find a girlfriend, get a hobby, go out dancing, progress in his career, or even open up a Netflix account to catch up on all the movies he’s missed since losing his boy. He wakes up, drinks coffee, and eventually goes back to sleep a joyless, nightmare-filled sleep. if there’s any variety in his routine, it’s if he decides to try as new flavor of bean. But since he probably doesn’t even taste the coffee by now, he likely won’t even do that.
Coffee Dad’s sad story doesn’t end happily ever after, unhappily ever after, or happily never after. It’ll just end. Sometime.