There is hope. I was once as you described: Coffee ice cream tasted foul, and even tiramisu was too much for me. I would have an occasional sip of someone’s coffee drink just to see if my tastes had changed and I always hated it. Then one day, my boyfriend made coffee using a French press, instead of the drip that he normally made. I tried a sip and it as if a switch had flipped. No cream, no sugar, just a really damn good cup of coffee. Now making (and drinking) coffee and espresso are among my favorite daily routines.
Every morning at 4am, the village children wake up. With swatters in hand, they race into the memory banks, ready to debug the relays before the morning batch job is run.