Jonesing For Trouble

“The coffeemaker is broken!” The panicked announcement two cubes over startled me from my work, and I glanced up at Marcy as she approached my cube, a frown puckering her brows.

“Did you hear? The coffeemaker isn’t working,” she said gravely.

I nodded. “I heard. I would think that sort of thing happens all the time, with so many people using—”

“No, it never happens! Ever!” She shook her head, denying such a truth. I surmised she’d worked here all her life.

My email client flashed a ‘new message’ notification at me. I clicked on it and stared at the rapidly multiplying unread messages, every single one starting with the subject ‘Coffee Maker’ and containing yet another woeful repeat of the afternoon’s news. Most of the emails were wondering what to do, how to deal with such a tragedy. After the nineteenth message arrived, I hit ‘Reply All’ and started typing.

Marcy was watching me the whole time. “What… what are you doing?” she wondered, wary.

“I’m offering to go to Starbucks for everyone.”

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