Coffee Break

I snagged this from between the walls. It dates back, waaay back. But here, shaken a bit to remove the dust, it is.

Coffee Break

Beverly sighed as she filled the coffee maker with water, closed the lid gently, and sighed again. Was it for this she had worked so diligently in college?

She hadn’t taken “Coffee Making 101.” Should have, though. Should have taken “Shopping for the Boss’ Relatives and Friends,” too. And what about “Running Personal Errands for the Boss?”

Apparently, she, an honors student, hadn’t gone to the right school. Seems all of the really important courses for succeeding in the business world, like coffee making, were lacking from her university’s curriculum.

Sucking her lower lip behind her upper teeth, Beverly grabbed the coffee can, pulled off the lid, scooped out some coffee, and dumped it into the coffee maker. There. Two scoops – the boss likes it made with two scoops. Releasing her lip, she dumped in another. Then with malice in her heart, she dumped in two more before setting the pot to perk.

Back at her desk, she fidgeted as she tried to concentrate. Soon she was interrupted by the inter-office phone. Picking it up, she made a conscious effort to moderate her voice before pleasantly inquiring, “Yes?”

“The coffee ready yet? I really need a cup. Oh, and run down to the bakery. I would kill for a Danish. Pick up a half dozen. When George arrives for our conference, we’ll have Danish and coffee. Give us a few minutes, then bring in the coffee and rolls. But first, bring me a cup right now.”

Beverly fought the urge to be sarcastic and won, merely answering, “Right,” and set the phone down.

Taking a cup from the little cabinet above the coffee pot, she slammed it on the counter and sloshed some coffee into it. Grimly grabbing a paper towel, she mopped up the overflow before it reached the edge of the counter. Placing the cup and a napkin on a tray, she carried it into the inner office.

The boss didn’t even look up, just reached for the coffee. Beverly turned on her heel to leave. She had nearly reached the door when she heard the boss choke and sputter.

“This coffee is terrible! Just awful!”

Beverly turned around and with wide, innocent eyes asked sweetly, “You don’t like the coffee?”

“It’s terrible! Awful! Dump this and brew another pot!”

“Oh, I don’t think I can do it any better,” said Beverly. “I just don’t think I can do it any better. Maybe you should make it. I’ll bet you make great coffee. After all, you are a woman, Mrs. Henderson.”