Attack of the pod people

Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear—there is trouble in the ninth-floor kitchen. Trouble with a capital T, and that rhymes with C, and that stands for coffee.

(Or maybe that’s a capital T, and that rhymes with P, and that stands for pod…)

I’ve written before about the sad state of employee amenities when it comes to beverage support here. I don’t believe I mentioned that, in addition to the coffee-club crap, there was a small Keurig machine, the kind that you have to add your water to the reservoir for each cup, so it had some years on it. Apparently some comradely colleague brought it in and shared with all, because it certainly wasn’t supplied by HR. If you brought your own pod(s) in, you could use it to make your coffee.

(Evidently at some point one user transgressed by walking away post-brew and leaving his/her pod in the machine, because that pod pointedly remained in there for a couple of days—people removed it, made their cup and replaced it. But I don’t think the transgressor got the point. They often don’t when you’re subtle.)

Well, a couple of weeks ago there was a very sad yellow stickie on it proclaiming that it wasn’t working, and after a day or two, it disappeared altogether.

However, joy returned to Mudville last week when a bright new machine appeared—one that has a multi-cup reservoir, and buttons!

Well, it did not take long for the transgressor to revert to his/her reprobate ways. Because yesterday this appeared on the kitchen wall:

It’s printed on 11x17 paper, which you have to dredge around to even find in this building.

So I’m going to be interested to see if this works. Because I pinged HR about the prospects for company-supplied coffee and tea, and that’s a negatory. I think they blew their amenity budget on putting a couple of sofas, three TV monitors and a foosball table in the lunchroom.