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It's Only Coffee I tried really hard this morning. I swear I did. It was early, the perfect hour for vengeance. After washing out my coffee cup (the one given me by the director of my recent production of Songs for a New World, which says, somewhat ironically, "Peace. It does not mean to be in a place where there is no noise, trouble or hard work. It means to be in the midst of those things and still be calm in your heart. (Unknown)") and filling it with that glorious morning concoction which kick-starts my systems when I've not had time to do the yoga or go to the gym (and even on those mornings when I have), I realised I'd taken the last viable full cup of coffee, leaving only a gritty splash in the bottom of the pot. Silently relishing my revenge against all those (especially the partners) in this office who regularly take the last cup without making the next full pot, I put it back on the burner and turned off the power. I thought of the frustrated e-mails I've sent on this very topic, proclaiming the gospel of etiquette that if anyone should take the last cup before 3 p.m., (s)he ought to make the next pot, as it requires less than five minutes and precious little effort and makes everyone's life so much more pleasant. I poured a splash of milk into my large steaming cup of caffeinated goodness. I thought of the bewilderment of several of the partners, who are doubtless too technologically clueless, not to mention lazy, to competently make a fresh and satisfying pot. I turned on my heel, prepared to stride vindicated to my desk, my minuscule yet (anti-)heroic payback for the number of times I, desperate for the narcotic jolt, have had first to fumble through the motions and wait through the filling of a pot someone else had left void, with impunity, unobserved. I could not do it. Cursing myself and my spine under my breath, I turned, set my cup of coffee on the counter, emptied and rinsed the pot and the filter case, measured out my usual strong quantity of grounds into a clean filter, filled the damned machine with filtered water, then left it to brew in solitude for the next potentially ungrateful bastard, taking my cup with me. I hate this place. r
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