Man Survives Work Related 'Coffee Incident'
Arlington, TX – Gene Armstrong does not consider himself a pushy man. Yet he does enjoy his morning coffee, possibly more than most.
|Oh no, not again! |
Armstrong, a consultant for Decision Analysis Marketing (DAM), had business of the day on his mind when he breezed by the communal coffee pot last Wednesday morning. Once seated in his office though he felt that something was missing, something felt incomplete. “It just came to me,” he laughed “I totally didn’t grab any coffee yet.”
As he launched his desktop workstation into action and read the daily inner-office memo, Armstrong readied himself for java bliss. “I was hoping it would be some sort of dark roast. To tell you the truth I’m getting a little tired of the foo-foo vanilla crèmes and hazelnut mochas. I mean, they’re fine for office parties and after dinner perks, but enough already. The women around here think that having the latest Flying Bean concoction is their God given right.”
It was shortly after 9 a.m. when disaster struck.
“I walked out and what had been at least half a pot of hot coffee not fifteen minutes earlier was gone,” remembered the DAM. Salesman of the Month for February. With the steely determination that was honed over four grueling years of undergraduate studies at Baylor, Armstrong decided to make another pot of coffee.
“I remember thinking about Lance Armstrong and his battles while I made that coffee,” he said. “We’re not related or anything, but we do have the same last name and I wore one of those yellow bracelets for like three months last summer when I was dating that fitness instructor.”
With yet another half a pot preparing to brew, Gene Armstrong returned to his office, mouth watering. Another quarter hour passed as he checked the Rangers’ box scores and googled “Penelope Cruz”. At 9:30 it was back to the break area, and back on track.
The Gods of the Bean were not kind this morning however. As he turned the corner and looked upon the glass carafe Armstrong’s body, already caffeine starved, broke down. There, mocking him, sat the remnants of his labor. The black liquid barely covered the bottom of the pot.
Gene never did find out who consumed his lifeblood. Some suspect an office prank, while Armstrong believes that larger forces were at work that day. Whatever the reason, whomever the culprit, it is safe to say that Armstrong’s morning routine is now forever changed. “Internal memos be damned,” he vows. “I will not be someone’s coffee pawn again.”isplay:none"0" style="display:no
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