Yesterday, I thought I’d make a pot of coffee for the office. What I ended up making was a pot of hot water.
CenturyCo has one of those big industrial coffee pots. It looks a lot like this one. In fact, I think it is this one:
We also have really good coffee. No Folger’s shit for us…we’re talking Dark Canyon, a local roaster of which I’m a big fan. In the past I’ve always brought coffee from home, but now I’m actually drinking it at work. Not every day, but a few times a week. Usually, somebody else has started the brewing process, so I’ve never had to make the coffee before.
On Wednesday, I went to pour myself a cup, but nothing was coming out. “Looks like somebody just forgot to hit BREW,” my supervisor, who happened to be in the break room at the time, said. So I pressed BREW and was rewarded with a dark stream of delicious Sumatran coffee dripping into my mug. Score!
Thursday, I went to pour myself a cup, but nothing was coming out. This time I was alone in the break room, but no biggie: I knew what to do. I’m nothing if not a quick learner, yo. So I pressed BREW and was rewarded with…a clear stream of hot water dripping into my mug.
Apparently, whereas the previous day somebody had already put coffee in the filter basket, this time nobody had. I was so embarrassed that I did what anybody would have in that situation: I raced out of there, glancing over my shoulder to make sure nobody had spotted me.
That’s right: I’m the guy who slinks away from the copier whenever there’s a paper jam.
Actually, not really. I have no problem taking ownership! Making a hasty exit from the break room was an act of pure instinct, a fight-or-flight reflex in which, sadly, I chose flight. What can I say? I’ve never been good under pressure. Whatevs. I’d simply sneak back in there, remove the giant canister, dump out the water, and start from scratch. Only when I circled back, there was another fella in there, already fixing my mistake.
So I pretended I was only passing through the break room on the way to the supply cabinet, and for good measure, began rifling through it as if in search of a pen or something.
Thursday was not my finest moment, guys.
I could have apologized, taken full responsibility, and blamed my “newbie” status. We probably would have had a good chuckle over the whole affair. Maybe I’d even earn a cool office nickname. “No Joe” or something. But instead I panicked, all in an effort to save face. Which I have promptly undone by coming here to blog about the whole thing. Consider this a purge of my consciousness, if you will.
Today, I stopped by Dunn Brothers for a latte on my way to work. I just don’t need this kind of stress in my life.