Yesterday morning was catastrophic.
I was going about the usual routine; wake up, make coffee, make breakfast, take Boss out while breakfast is cooking, feed Boss, keep watchful eye on Boss so he does not make poo in kitchen, drink coffee…..
*wait a minute*
Drink coffee? Hello? Coffee? Coffee? Are you here? Hmmmm, coffee is not seated at their desk today.
Oh no. This can’t be. Say it isn’t so. Coffee isn’t here because coffee is ALL OVER THE COUNTER.
Sounds the sirens, blow the whistle, we have a real COFFEE EMERGENCY.
Holy crap! Coffee overboard! All over the counter coffee is pouring in a steady brown stream from origin – the Cadillac.
Quick – my reaction time for coffee catastrophe is faster than I can do 25 free sprint no breath at this point and I realize that the Cadillac is spewing coffee all over the kitchen counter like a volcanic outpouring of molten java.
To a coffee drinker this is quite possibly the worst thing ever. EVER. Worse than waking up and realizing there is no coffee in the house at all – to have it and find it all over the counter really puts you in a tough spot. Because now – what do I do? Drink coffee off the counter from a straw? Lick it up?
All good options, but no.
Because first, it must be cleaned. Damn it! Have you ever cleaned a coffee mess? It’s not like it just sits still. It is everywhere. It runs. IT HAS LEGS! On the counter, down the cabinets, on the floor. It is wily and slippery and keeps making more of a mess.
Plus, what is this? The grounds? How did this happen? There are grounds EVERYWHERE! There are grounds in this mess making a much bigger mess. ARGH!
Chris watches this and tries talking to me. I think he is trying to be nice. He has realized there is a real coffee emergency going on here and no matter how much he talks – it doesn’t help. In fact, can someone please turn him off. Carry him away. There is nothing to see here, move along. Because unless he says the words “I have a cup of coffee here for you now” I won’t really hear it at all.
He suggests I wait until 8:30 am to venture outside and drive to the good place to get coffee. 8:30 am? That is 90 minutes from now. That is like waiting until tomorrow. Not a choice. But if I go now it will literally take me over 30 minutes one way in rush hour traffic to go……seriously…4 miles.
But I’m not really listening. I am just trying to figure out what the heck happened here. One thing is certain – it is not me and not my fault. Oh no. Can’t be. In the land of coffee, the user is never to blame. It has to be, it is…..the machine.
The machine has up and quit. It is tired of making 4 cups a day. It needs rest. Or at least a periodized plan. Like a week off from training where it can just recover and shut down. But come on, coffee maker – we have a lot of work. We have schedules to write, e-mails to answer, and….and, that darn dog. Needs to go out roughly 100 times each day.
So I need you, coffee. I rely on you. You are my lifeline and how dare you cry all over the counter in your warm brown ‘save me’ tears. I thought you were tough. Your shiny metallic exterior is just a ruse. You are weak. WEAK! And now you have failed me. You are steps away from the recycling bin. I will put you on the curb! Don’t test me. I don’t care if it is 5 degrees outside!
I am wrapped in my entertaining conversation with the coffee maker when I realize that maybe it wasn’t the coffee maker’s fault. Maybe it was……me.
You see, someone, um, maybe me….forgot….to..uh...put….the filter…in.
From behind me, Chris laugh as I reveal a black filter filled with steaming hot coffee up to the brim.
“User error! User error!” he shouts.
I am so glad someone finds this funny. Because this is not funny. NOT FUNNY AT ALL! And the wet brown rag in my hand that is about to be stuffed in your mouth should make that very clear right away. It is just a threat. But at that point, he realizes the potentially pleasant part of my personality is now dripping all over the floor so best he moves on and leave me for the day.
So there I stood. After cleaning the pot, the filter, the counter, the floor, and now…..now what.
Ok, plan B. What is plan B? We never need a Plan B, so I don’t have one now. Help! Who do I call? This is where that Hot Coffee Hotline would come in…..dammit…why haven’t I gotten on that idea yet. I’m not sure I can create a Plan B on the spot – not without my coffee first! What is nearby……
Dunkin Donuts – no. Risk standing in line wearing my pink pajama pants while some idiot tries to use a coupon for one free donut with a small coffee but then realizes the coupon is expired, cusses about it like the gal behind the counter really gives a shit, abandons their order all together and holds up the line.
How about Joyful’s? Upper Crust? Marginal coffee at best. Not really worth the drive nor ridicule for pajamas and wool cap.
Make another pot of coffee? No. Never an option. There is a rule at my house. You make a pot at home first. If it doesn’t work – you don’t try again. There is no do over in the land of coffee. You give it up for a day and you go out.
And so, I decide I will make a decision that might just strike me as a coffee connessieur with taste worth a hill of beans……..I go to the 7-Eleven.
Wait! Wait! Hear me out – it’s nearby. As in, right down the street. And not only that – but in times of decaffeinated desperation I have realized that their coffee….
Is actually quite good.
(in a small office up north, Jerome Harrison is sitting behind a desk and part of his taste buds have just died)
Let me speak. They have a little coffee bar. There have to be a dozen different flavors of mostly fresh coffee. And little creamers of all different sorts. Syrups, sugars. I don’t use any of that crap but it sure is nice to see. It says to me – coffee is welcome here. Coffee is our friend. Come, be friends with our coffee too.
Ok! I’m in! SOLD! Where are the cups?
I choose this morning - Vanilla Nut. With a little cream. And then I go up to the counter to pay. The man looks at me – as in, gives me a good once over with the eyes. Yes, sir, I am standing in front of you in my pajamas. And no sir, I am not wearing underwear. And please sir would you just ring up the coffee because I may have more of a mess of coffee to clean up at home and a small Chihuahua that is probably pooping in it right now.
Back at home, I have my little 7-Eleven cup and I am on my way to a good day. Coffee is still on the counter and there is a mess of rags on the floor but I don’t care. I can’t care. Until I have had the proper start to my day. In this cup. In my mouth. Oh it is good. Tasty to say the least.
And how would have thought I would be standing here thanking heaven for 7-Eleven coffee. Sometimes there is the most unlikely remedy to what could have been a very disasterous day. Now, if I could find something at 7-Eleven that could help me with my swim……