The Twelfth Espresso

espresso illustration

Oh God, not another meeting, I can’t handle another meeting, I’m gonna crash, I’m gonna fall asleep on my feet, they’re gonna think I’m a lazy bastard but they won’t know that this is my eighth meeting of the day and that I’ve drunk so much coffee I’m peeing brown and my head is spinning.

“Ms. Archer and her team will be in in just a second – can I get you a coffee?”

Oh Jesus, not more coffee, I should not have more coffee, but what if more coffee is exactly what I need because right now I feel like I’m gonna vomit with this caffeine crash and maybe I just need a little more to pep me up again.

“Just a small one, thanks, you’re a champ.”

That’s a mistake, you’re gonna regret that, you moron, your heart will start hammering so hard that it’s gonna work its way out of your chest and flop onto the boardroom table and splatter Ms. Archer and her team with blood and you’re never gonna make any sales then, are ya matey?

Ah, here they come, here they come, Ms. Archer and her band of merry yes-men who won’t give a flying fuck about my products unless Ms. Archer likes my products, so she’s the one to impress today, she’s the one I need to focus on, I can ignore the rest of them.

“Hello! Lovely to see you! Thanks for having me! I think I’ve got something you’re really going to love!”

Oh, do shut up with your overenthusiasm you sound like a smarmy salesman and that is everything you despise so why, why are you trying to become one?

The guy’s back with the coffee and it smells like it’s going to kill me.

He places a teeny, tiny cup in front of me and I have to check the room to make sure I’m not a guest at a teddy bear’s picnic.

The room looks back blankly and everyone in it is normal size so I’m not dreaming it’s just a ridiculously miniscule cup and that can only mean one thing – espresso.

I asked for a small coffee and the tool’s got me a fucking espresso and a highly concentrated dose of coffee is exactly what a man in my position does not need. If I drink it it’ll be my twelfth – yes twelfth – shot of coffee today and I don’t know what affect it’s going to have on my body it could kill me for all I know.

Oh well, bottoms up.

Just the taste of it seems to pep me up and then I’m rooting through my briefcase for the product that is guaranteed to get Ms. Archer’s heart racing and her yes-men nodding along like Weebles.

“Vegetable peeler. Mandoline. Apple corer. Spiralizer. This little baby does it all, in one small, simple package. RRP £27.99, price to you is £13.99 which I think you’ll agree offers you a pretty juicy margin.”

Oh, sweet Jesus, I sound like I’m imitating that bloke from QVC and I hate myself and Ms. Archer hates me and all her yes-men hate me by proxy.

“Does it really do it all?” one of the yes-men says with a sneer, a sneer he’s mirroring from his boss.

“Absolutely, lemmeshowyahowitworks.”

Must. Take. Breaths. Between. Words.

“I’ve got a plain old potato here, looky-looky. We have the peely-peely. The slicey-slicey. The corey-corey. And even the spirally-spirally – who knew you could spiralise a potato? They’re big, are spirals. All the kids on YouTube are doing them. Ow, oh fuck, oh bugger, oh…”

Don’t spiralise without looking at your hands, you pleb, we’ve been over this.

Now they’re asking if I’m okay and if the product is safe and fit for purpose and if they’re gonna have lawsuits on their hands when their customers spiralise their fingers and so many questions are coming at me at once that I don’t know which to answer first so instead I look at my injured finger and its… oh. Pouring blood.

I didn’t think my heart could beat any faster but apparently it can and I think everyone can hear it humming in my chest and I look at my finger again and the blood must be spurting out of it because my heart’s thumping so fast that everything is going a little bit blurry and then all of a sudden a sense of calm washes over me and I. Can. Breathe.

Everyone’s watching me and they’re still asking questions, but it’s all going to be okay because everything is very slowly fading away.

The world is turning espresso black and I’m just going to sleep right through it.

It’s National Espresso Day in the USA today. Go crazy. Just don’t drink 12.

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