Earlier this week picture the scene if you will: it’s the day before the Turkey Man Cometh and you’ve been awake since 6:30am; work has been a manic whirlwind of Thanks Giving madness as everyone in America tries to get their assorted phones activated, configured and set-up before the 4-day weekend commences; you’ve seen the light of madness of your coworkers eyes and swore to yourself that you would not allow yourself to suffer the same fate and yet…your energy is failing, motivation is draining, lifeforce growing weak, bother levels dwindling.
So you give in, you realise that you can’t do this alone; you turn your back on your personal attempt to make it through the day without caffeine; you go over to the life-giving coffee machine that the Management gifted to the office knowing its importance in preventing at least 95% of their workforce from going postal and appearing on the Jax news; you select an appropriate K-Cup (in this case Colombian dark, because if you’re going to fall off the wagon at least do it in style); you wait for the water to heat and for that magical ‘Ready To Brew’ message to appear; you press the Brew button and wait for what feels like an eternity for your chosen size of brew (max mug) to sputter into the cup.
Then it’s in your hands: a hot, steamy cup of heaven, so dark and strong that you can feel your energy levels increasing simply from inhaling the rich and heavy caffeine-laced steam. You add your chosen creamer *whoops, a little too much* now the coffee level is dangerously near the ceramic lip of the cup, but it’s too hot to sip and decrease the liquid and the clock is ticking, so you make the decision to return to your desk with brimming coffee cup in hand.
You carefully, oh so carefully, begin the odd pigeon-step back to your desk all the while trying to prevent the liquid in the cup from slopping over the edges. After agonizing seconds of balance juggling tick past, your desk is almost close enough to reach. You begin to reach your cup-filled hand out in order to gently, carefully rest your caffeine salvation onto your coaster, when…
Shahid Khan’s giant super-yacht the Kismet decides to share its self-satisfied smugness with the world by sounding off its klaxonesque horn to all of Jacksonville. It scares the crap out of you and makes you jump in surprise, and before you can control it the coffee cup is slipping from your grasp and tips forward, sending a tidal wave of coffee lava onto the desk, sweeping away post-its and your favourite ink pen.
Overcome by rage and loss, torn apart by raw emotion, you raise your head to the heavens (in this case the office ceiling tiles) and howl, “Khaaaaaaaaaan!“
To your delight, just before you start to look around for paper towels to control the damage, you hear from elsewhere in the office, “Sweet, d’you hear that, a Star Trek reference,” and know that your loss was not in vain.