I arrived at work, scanned my badge and didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Our resident lesbian security guard was slumped at the desk, the phone was silent, and the hum of the re-circulated air through the building was all that could be heard.
I crept into the employee lounge, if one can call a room with no windows, six uncomfortable and rickety chairs, and a TV that only displays snow scenes a lounge, and went for my morning coffee. The coffee pot was empty. It sat upon its burner, red light indicating ‘on' and ‘hot', but only a remnant of a burned ring of coffee residue remained. Momentary panic set in, but this happened before and could be rectified with some simple cajoling.
I needed to find an employee of mine to make a new pot.
I trudged down the hallway, scanned my badge, and let myself into the main office. I think that this is when I realised that some catastrophe had befallen us. My employees lay slumped at their desk, their screens flashing and chirping away, their hands frozen on mice in mid-move. This is not abnormal for a Friday morning, except that...every...single cup of coffee was empty. This was a tragedy of truly epic proportions!
I shook my coffee ‘goto' man, Mike (who makes a damn fine cup of coffee), in hope that I could rouse him from his near death stupor. Not a chance. And I can't make coffee to save my arse. I knew that only one course was available to me...I had to try and make it to Starbucks. I stumbled back down the corridor, the previous night's alcohol threatening to overwhelm me at any moment.
The drive to Starbucks was harrowing, burnt cars littering the roadway and the working-undead slowing shambling towards the mall where my latté grail awaited.
Through the mall's parking lot I sped, and I rolled to a stop and leapt from my vehicle. I made it inside and waited patiently (I am British, after all) in line behind the other ‘survivors' who had made it to this refuge. I had made it; the barista would administer the £3 caffeine that would make me one of the few that would get through this.
"I'm sorry sir, our espresso machine is broken. Would you like a Frappuccino or a Hot Chocolate instead?"
That's when I noticed! In my dreams of caffeine and espresso I didn't recognize the betrayal waiting for me at the beginning of the line! The previous customers lay in a twitching jerking pile of human limbs - spread akimbo in a very unappetizing manner.
I backed away from the horror, the "barista" still smiling and holding a Frappuccino in his hand!
I gathered my strength and growled at him "Frappuccinos are for gay men and children!"
And I ran!
Not far, might I add, falling to the ground in the parking lot, still hoping vainly that I had enough life to make it to Costa Coffee. I began to crawl. The world started to spin.
And that's when I saw him, through a shimmering haze he walked; black leather, dog, and a pot of coffee. He bent down, poured me a cup of the blackest coffee I've ever had. As I drank he simply said "G'day mate, it'll be ok." And he walked off as quickly as he had appeared - this stranger had saved my life.
Of course I may have been slightly hung over and hallucinating.
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JaneCopland
blitzhund
unbelievable
YuYu
fatback
JaneCopland
fatback
JaneCopland
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