My Air Force veteran buddy at work likes to think of himself as a hard coffee drinker. He likes his black & hot, no froo-froo blends or adulterants, thanks. Stronger is better and Folgers is the standard.
So there I was...
Actually, so there HE was, at the coffee maker we hide in the lab with a puzzled look on his face. He says, "We got coffee, but no filters. A G-D tragedy. Not sure if I can work without coffee. Kind of afraid to try."
I move on up and take the coffee pot full of water he had in hand, almost ready to pour in the auto-drip tank, and it instead into the hot pot (we also hide in the lab) instead and mash the switch. "How is that going to help?" he asks. I tell him, "I'll throw grounds into my mug, pour boiling water over them and sip through my teeth." "G-D snake eaters. Can't take them anywhere," he muttered. "What's the difference between a grunt and a caveman? The cave man has better manners." I tell him, "Who's drinking coffee? I suggest you do what I do instead of whining like a little girl and people get the right idea about you."
Yup, that's me. Un-reconstructed, over-caffeinated, and ever so sensitive to my co-workers' feelings. Good thing we both work in a closed lab, else our employer might get the right idea that neither of us are really down with the New Corporate Respect and Hugbox Policy.
