Thinking

By: L Jones

Ok, this morning I had to go my old office building, because we moved into a new one a few months back. Being so in a hurry to get out of there, we left some of our equipment at the old location. This morning I went to pick that equipment up.

The temperature outside was cold and the ground was still coated with about two inches of snow. I opened my car door was caught up in the middle of a battle; the two combatants were the imprisoned heat that had been confined in the car for the duration of my trip and the cold wind from outside that wanted to get in. I shivered.

I ran up the stairs of the building and inputted the combination to the door. When I opened the door, I was greeted by the fresh smell of freshly brewed coffee and the pleasant smile from a custodial worker. I greeted the worker. My mind danced, because I hadn’t had my usual cup of coffee just yet. I stealthfully searched the building for the origin of the scent. (I really wanted some coffee) Found it; a good friend of mine, Sergeant D was standing in front of the coffee pot, holding a cup of coffee she had just poured. Apparently, she knew I was there for coffee, because she handed me the cup and poured herself another.

You know, it’s an art to getting your coffee to taste just right. Even if you drink it black, you have to have the proper amount of water added to the correct measurement of coffee. I’m not that serious, but today, I made the best coffee I had in a while. I added creamer. I added sugar; sip. Needs more sugar.

After I got the coffee as close to the perfect cup as I could, I asked Sergeant D if I could use their facility van to load up the equipment and take it to my new location. She agreed and gives me the keys to the van.

Here I am, a cup of delicious coffee in one hand and the dispatch log with van keys in the other. I started walking down the hallway and the coffee in the cup was sloshing about in the cup. halfway down the hallway, there was a trash can; you know, one of the larger ones with the metal top and the open slits where you can insert the trash. I decided to place my coffee on the top of the trash can, go start up the van, come back in the building and retrieve my coffee and get the equipment staged for pickup; all in that order.

I headed out the door, keys in hand to start the van. I ran back up the stairs, inputted the combination and entered the door. I look down the hallway and I see that same custodial worker standing next to the trash can and drinking a cup of coffee. Now, I don’t know if it’s my cup of deliciously flavored coffee, but I know it sure looks suspicious. As I get closer to him, I imagine he could see the gears in my brain grinding, because he asks me if I had to work this weekend. The only thing my mind could focus on was unraveling the mystery of the state of my cup of coffee. I got to a certain point in the hallway, where the entire trash can was in view; there’s no coffee cup, except the one in his hands.

  “Dude, you’re drinking my coffee”, I explained to him as I approached.

  “I thought you were throwing it away” he innocently retorts, as if drinking a cup of coffee off the top of a trash can was normal or something.

After the initial shock, I told him to enjoy the coffee and try and stay warm. I still haven’t had my full cup of coffee today.