The Bitterness Blog


Take a Closer Look, Dumbass
September 25, 2009, 8:48 pm
Filed under: Work Bitching

One of the many stimulating and rewarding responsibilities I have at the new job is ordering and stocking kitchen supplies.  This includes paper plates, napkins, paper towels, utensils, coffee, sugar and creamer.  We have one of those ridiculously high tech and expensive Flavia machines.  There is no mixing or messy grounds to deal with; coffee comes in individual one-serving packets and you literally just have to stick the packet in the machine and wait 30 seconds.  It’s even digitalized with a little options screen where you pick the flavor you want from a list of options so the machine knows what it’s being asked to make, and you can program it to create mixes out of more than one flavor packet.  It’s ridiculous.  The only way it could be more high tech is if you could just think the flavor you wanted and the machine could read your thoughts and then carry the cup to you at your desk.  We keep around 20 different flavors in stock (I know!) and a box of each flavor costs just under 50 bucks.  We have 130 people in the building and spend roughly 500 bucks on coffee a week (not including whatever rental/service fee we pay for the machine and its maintenance).  Insanity.

Meet the Flavia.  Told you it was high tech.

Meet the Flavia.

Sadly, the machine can’t take care of sugar and creamer.  One must do that part oneself.  That means that occasionally, when the canister of sugar that is sitting on the counter is empty, one must throw it away and take another canister out of the cabinet underneath the coffee machine or the one above it; both cabinets have a spot where sugar is stored, with a label on the edge of the shelf that reads SUGAR.  I went through the kitchen yesterday to see what needed to be ordered, and I didn’t order more sugar because there were five unopened canisters in the bottom cabinet.

So today I get an email from a woman named Lisa (I haven’t put faces with names yet so I really had no idea who was emailing me) that said:

“Not sure if you know but we’re out of sugar in the 5th floor kitchen : ) ”

Actually, unless a sugar thief came in the middle of the night and stole the 5 unopened canisters that were there as of 4pm yesterday, we’re very much NOT out of sugar in the 5th floor kitchen.  But just in case sugar thievery has become an alarming new rash of rampant criminal activity, I checked before emailing the woman back.  And Lo:  the 5 canisters of sugar were still very much there, very much unopened, and very much on a shelf with a label reading SUGAR.

So I responded:

“Actually there are five unopened canisters.”

Then the woman phyiscally comes to my desk to say that she can’t find them and where exactly are they?  I said, “They’re in the lower cabinet.  On the shelf with the label reading SUGAR.”

Two minutes later, Lisa returns to tell me they are not there.  Either that sugar thief is super fucking stealth or Lisa is a fucking moron.  And lest you worry that our 5th floor kitchen is the size of a castle and there are hundreds of cabinets there and I’m being unfair here, let me put your mind at ease.  There are a total of 5 cabinets, two lower and 3 above sink level, so I figured that specifying the location as being “lower” was a sufficiently qualifying description that should really narrow down the search for her.

Apparently I was wrong.  And nice to meet you Lisa.

I had to walk in there and show her the sugar.  She did thank me, so that’s something I guess.  But for real?  I would have searched up and down, left and right for that shit before I even emailed someone about it, and you bet your ass I would have searched real hard before I came back after the email to say it wasn’t there, and I can guaran-fucking-tee  you I would have searched for that shit like Betty Ford hunting for booze before I went back a SECOND time to say there was no sugar there.  But then, I make an effort not to look like a complete jackass.  Clearly my new buddy Lisa is less concerned.

I need to write to my Congressman about that.

I need to write to my Congressman about that.

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