In the Spring on 1975 when I was theoretically going to graduate from Brigham Young University (I ended up not, short one class), my parents came to Provo to attend the graduation ceremony.
They wanted to take us out to dinner and we chose a restaurant that we had never been to (we were very poor) called (and I hope I'm remembering this right) El Azteca.
El Azteca was one block off the south end of campus on the second floor of a small building on the corner. You had to live in the area to know it was there.
Well after dinner my parents wanted a cup of coffee. My dad asked the waitress, who gave him a puzzled look and said "Let me go check".
She came back some time later and told him "We used to have some coffee, but it spoiled!"
Only in Utah.
I understand, by the way, that it takes a long time for coffee to spoil :)