Smartassery

It’s been established that I pretty much hate every aspect of my job, except that is when I get to put my feet up and play movies all day long in the projector, but I’m not writing raves about venture capital here, am I?

Anyway, the one task that I abhor the most is making coffee… 

Now, I dig coffee, the way we (my peeps) make it, which is an ultra-concentrated-foamy, sacharine concoction. This style, we call it “colada”, of coffee has so much oomph that it has the same jolting effect as snorting two lines of yeyo. No joke. Basically, my illustrious countrymen have turned coffee into a legal amphetamine. 

Now, the circus crew I work for prefer to drink a flavorless watery infusion. I think it is known as American coffee. Bah! For me to poop on. The irritating part is not so much making it but serving it. Naturally, circus master Moringo has a whole play-tea-party approach to it. Top experts agree that Moringo’s favorite toy is a Barbie dollhouse, pink, no doubt.   

Anyway, the motherf’ing coffee ritual involves setting the following:

• collection of porcelain cups and saucers with stupid silver spoons 
• coffee in at least 3 incarnations: the full body, the decaf, and the flavored
• assorted crap: fat free milk, full fat milk, half free fat milk, powder cream, liquid cream, sugar, Equal, scones, muffins, butter, jam, and on and on
• water: hot, cold, at room temperature, and the bloody Perrier

All of this of course will be set up, prepared, taken away, washed, and shined by the help (aka moi). Frankly, I have better things to spend my time on, like saving a village in Malawi from an army of ants, building a bridge of origami, or inventing a vaccine against helplessness.

So, in my passive-aggressive way I decided to make sure I don’t have to make coffee ever again. My evil plan involved the following measures:

• If the coffemaker instructions call for 3 tablespoons of java, use 9
• No coffee is properly brewed without a healthy amount of salt or a laxative
• All cups and spoons will have stains or watermarks indicating they haven’t been washed properly and instilling fear of cuddies in the observing consumer
• Order “beta” versions of all pastries which means dissing the yummy cinammon flavors in favor of the experimental avocado-prune or orange-kale-kiwi ones

UPDATE: Yesterday, instead of asking for the coffee service bullshit, Moringo took everyone to the cafe in the lobby for, wait for it, wait for it…take-out coffee. Man, I’m awesome at being evil! Tell me, magic mirror, is there a more perfect being out there? 

This entry was posted on Friday, November 3rd, 2006 at 11:06 pm and is filed under Vapid Capital. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Responses are currently closed, but you can trackback from your own site.