Did you ever just have one of those days…
Like this morning,
where, at five a.m.
I was wandering purposefully,
around our apartment,
frozen turkey under my arm,
looking for a pair af glasses,
so I could read the expiration date,
so I could decide whether to pitch said turkey,
since our refrigerator was making a bizarre humming noise,
which was so loud I noticed it on may way to the coffee machine
to cure grogginess, etc.
(the good-till date was 2018)
The coffee machine, however,
did I mention it was five a.m.?
was doing its own version of salsa,
since it is, thankfully, one of those simplistic ones-
with absolutely no electronics-
put out by a major huge coffee roasting and selling company
can I mention Tchibo?
which as far as I know is actually Swiss,
and is a very fair company.
you pay for something where you put in water,
turn it on,
toss in a pad-
and you get a coffee machine where you put in water….etc
Only that this one was now dancing the boogaloo,
and spitting at me-
like a cat-
hiss hiss hiss,
and tap-dancing impatiently on the counter-
the result of,
as I found out once I had forced my scientist husband,
known for repairing non-functioning clocks at the age of four-
yes, I am indeed serious-
back to his nice warm bed,
with the promise I would bring him a nice cup of perfect (lol) coffee
once I had gotten my writing time in…
But first I had to find the alone time to get my un-sonic screwdriver and explore:
since I needed beverage.
And this was a far too serious case of “just can’t seem to get moving”
to be solved by tea,
no matter how seriously Assam, Ceylon, Nilgiri it was.
just me and the machine.
And an unsonic screwdriver.
Which, once I gave up,
made “coffee” with six spoons of instant and tepid water-
and about a pint of milk,
and faced the machine-
mano a espresso,
there was water all over the floor-
did I forget to mention the water?
hey, I don’t snitch-
had turned it off in mid-brew
to take a phone call,
and it had suddenly,
when turned on the next day,
dumped the remainder of the brew into the overflow tray.
Which hadn’t been emptied for a while-
The pad, it turned out,
was stuck in the slot,
this time my telephone call,
had forgotten to take out the empty pads.
And the hissing was probably calcium.
Or the thing just plain seriously doesn’t like me.
So after promising to faithfully
as in daily,
do the maintainance,
it genteelly acquiesced to dispense me a cuppa.
Which came in truly handy,
since just at that moment,
I heard an alarm clock.
And the sound of a future Fields’ medalist stirring.
And was thankful.
For the FFM,
the fact that I wasn’t standing in the water
when the coffee machine made the decision between
hissing, and blowing a fuse,
and the fact that hopefully, sometime in the near future,
I may even get a second,
or even a third
from the marvelous inner workings
of a simple coffee machine.
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