As an apology for last night's short and pathetically boring post, I have decided to regale you, my loyal subjects, with some stories from my past.
The Tale of the Coffee Drinkers Club
Because my old company was pathetic enough that they could not provide their employees with free coffee, people had to set up their own coffee club. For a small membership fee they can enjoy an unlimited supply of freshly brewed coffee. Non-members can also enjoy this priveledge, by paying for the coffee with a reduced price (just drop the money in the tip jar next to the brewer).
My friends and I were underpaid enough that we couldn't afford to buy a cup at Starbucks. We therefore took full advantage of this coffee club. Of course, since we were underpaid, we didn't sign up for membership. We didn't pay for the coffee either. We just snuck into the pantry, quickly filled our mugs, and snuck out, hoping nobody was watching us.
And thus was born the Drinkers of the Coffee of the Coffee Club Club.
The Tale of the C2 Vendor
I had an officemate who sold iced tea, soda, and snacks as a side business. Nevermind the fact that she used the office fridge to cool her merchandise. Anyway, I was the little communist back then, so I hated the fact that she makes more than me even if it was the result of her own hard work and ingenuity. Out of bitterness I refused to buy from her. I'd walk all the way to 7-11 for my daily C2 iced tea fix, even if her cubicle was right next to mine.
Defeated by the long 10 minute walks and 7-11's inflated prices, I finally succumbed to the temptation. Of course, I couldn't stand to see my money directly handed over to her so I asked my gay friend to buy a bottle and sneak it to me in the pantry.
The Tale of the C2 Drinkers Club
Still bitter about the whole C2 incident, I gathered my friends in the pantry and started a new club. We called it the Drinkers of the C2 of the C2 Vendor Club. The purpose of this club should be pretty obvious by now. Since we were rebellious bastards, we even posted the application details on the bulletin board (just send an email to yours truly).
The happy days ended when a project manager did actually send me an email...
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And these, my loyal subjects, are just some of the stories from my crazy past. I hope you enjoyed reading them as much as I enjoyed reminiscing about them.
Signed,
Her Imperial Majesty
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