Magic Coffee

How many well-educated executives does it take to make a pot of coffee? Well, let me see, that answer is ZERO. I must be honest up front, and post a disclaimer that my boss knows how to make a pot of coffee and if he arrives first to the office, he will do so. This is where any happiness to this story ends.

Last week I decided to run amok and play childish games since I work with a bunch of 5th graders. My boss was on vacation and I made the executive decision that there would be no morning coffee for those who arrived at the office each day. Those who breathlessly get off the elevator after parking in a nice underground garage (in their "fill-in-the-blank" BMW Series cars) would not smell one drop of java. I knew it wouldn't take long for one of them to scoot to the kitchen, complaining about L.A. traffic for the thousandth time, and realize there was no coffee.

By the way, after someone has lived here for as long as these people have, can't I call a bullsh*t moratorium on them using traffic as an excuse for always being late? SERIOUSLY.

So many footsteps back and forth to the kitchen, yet not one sniff of Verona blend Starbucks. After about 3 hours of watching the ping-ponging from desk to kitchen, I made a slow waltz to take in the view. Why there before my very eyes was a clean and empty coffee cup sitting under the pot of an empty coffee urn. It suddenly came to me...they were waiting on magic coffee!

I'm looking on the bright side, though. I could have been up against the kind of co-worker who told me to get them some coffee, black, and make sure the cup was clean, darlin'! Oh wait, there is no bright side. That empty coffee cup sitting there was conveying the same messsage, just in silence. I took the high road, people. I am an Executive Assistant, not a Coffee Fairy.