Wednesday, November 29, 2006

An Open Letter to the Person That Gets to Work Ten Minutes Before Me

I don't want to seem confrontational. That said, what the hell is wrong with you?
What kind of inconsiderate ass leaves two empty coffee pots with brown tops and one freshly brewed pot with the orange "Decaf" top?
Sure, at first I thought you had made regular coffee in the decaf pot. It's early. Maybe you brewed in the dark with some kind of 1337 ninja coffee skills.
But I pulled the wastebasket out of the niche and looked. Sitting on top of the pile, mocking me, sat your empty bag of decaf.
You suck more than any person I've ever even heard about.
I mean, it is 6:30 in the freaking morning, you stink hole.
Okay. Maybe I overreacted a bit. The cursing and spinning and flailing could be classified, loosely, as melodramatic. Perhaps.
But would it have killed you to make a pot of actual coffee while you were wasting hot water on your own "warms you on the inside and tastes mostly like real coffee" swill? I'd hope so.
You see, some of us have work to do. Some of us need coffee first thing in the morning to repress our murderous urges. Some of us hate you and all that you stand for as no human being in the history of time has been hated. Some of us wish we knew what you drive, you piece of human slime.
Look, with all due respect, if you are so freaking peppy in the morning that you don't need caffeine maybe you could put on a pot for the rest of us before brewing your own, you vile, horrible, evil, twisted, sick asshat. Decaf is obviously not an emergency, after all.
Again, I don't want to seem confrontational. But you suck. A lot. Someone has to call attention to it. To let you know. To make things better. To start the healing.
Ha! As if healing is possible without coffee!
You'd know if you drank it, but you don't. You selfishly brew decaf at 6:30 in the morning. A gift to share with your co-workers? Whatever.
I know your game, you non-stop suck festival. I'm onto you. You did that on purpose to decrease the productivity of those around you to make yourself look useful. I've got news for you, suck wad. It isn't going to work. No one has a use for someone who brews decaf at 6:30.
Are you unhappy at home? Mom and Dad never buy you a puppy? Disenfranchised by the last election and transformed into a sociopathic malcontent driven by the need to spread your unique blend of misery and wasted Columbian Roast? What is your problem? Did I wrong you somehow?
Your putrid hate crime will not go unanswered, loser.
Decaf is not inherently evil, but making it in an office before 2:30pm is just plain mean.
I've taken the rest of the decaf to my cubicle and stashed it under my desk. I'll return it in the afternoons as I leave the building, a few bags at a time until your hatred stops.
If you report me, I can be very convincing about my hatred of decaf and will show shock and horror that it is anywhere near me, even all bagged up. I can also trace that report back to you, and through the parking database I can determine what you drive. I'm not threatening. I'm just saying. Data flows through my system like decaf flows through yours, you stinking pile of garbage.
By this time the coffee for the rest of us has finished brewing, so I'll cut this short. I'm watching you, Decaf Boy. You don't want to find yourself between me and coffee in the morning.

A cup low,

G

5 comments:

Shana said...

Perhaps your coping skills are not as evolved as I had initially thought.

Anonymous said...

Uh ... Garrick ... maybe the decaf was a message to you ... from ... you know ... concerned coworkers?

I'm just saying ...

Garrick said...

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Perfectly reasonable,

G

Andrew Moore said...

You think you're grumpy now?

Check this out:

http://www.moscowcatstheatre.com/

Mwa ha ha ha ha!

Garrick said...

I'm impressed that the Russians came out of the vodka haze long enough to devise a way to be cruel to cats and the audience at the same time.

I'm more than a little disturbed that the clown (horrible, horrible clown) seems so surprised about the gender of that cat.