Office Coffee: Uncle Bobbys Guide to Swallowing Your Bitter Cup of Corporate Life
Dear Uncle Bobby, Why does the coffee at work always taste so bad? I don’t care who makes it, what brand it is, or how fresh it is—it always tastes like disappointment and burnt regret. Is this just an unavoidable part of office life?
Bitterly Brewing,,
Over-Caffeinated and Underwhelmed
Oh, Over-Caffeinated, you sweet summer child. You think office coffee is supposed to be good? No, no. Office coffee isn’t a beverage. It’s a warning. See, every workplace is required—by some unwritten law of human suffering—to provide the absolute worst possible coffee experience. If your office had good coffee, people might actually enjoy coming to work, and we can’t have that now, can we? This stuff isn’t brewed—it’s summoned from the depths of a burnt bean underworld. It doesn’t smell like coffee; it smells like regret. And if you ever drink it black? Congratulations—you’ve just consumed pure, liquid anxiety.
The people making the coffee? Good intentions, terrible execution. It’s either: - Too weak. Looks like tea, tastes like disappointment. - Too strong. One sip and your soul leaves your body. - The Mystery Batch. Made by someone, at some point, containing God-knows-what.
So, what’s the solution? There isn’t one. You can try bringing your own fancy coffee, but you’ll either: 1. Get judged for it. (Ohhh, look at Mr. Fancy Coffee over here!) 2. Have it mysteriously disappear from the fridge, only to show up three days later half-empty and suspiciously warm.
In short, Over-Caffeinated, this is your fate. Office coffee isn’t here to help you—it’s here to humble you. So sip it, wince, and accept that it’s just another small reminder that corporate life is a never-ending test of your will to survive. Good luck.
And if you see a fresh pot brewing? Run. It’s a trap. You might think, Oh, maybe this one will be different. Maybe today’s batch won’t taste like burnt rubber and existential dread. But you’d be wrong. That coffee pot has been sitting there, simmering away into a black hole of bitterness, waiting to destroy the last shred of hope you had for the day.
So what do you do? You drink it anyway. Because at the end of the day, it’s not about the taste. It’s about survival. That sludge in your cup is the only thing standing between you and falling asleep in a 2 p.m. meeting.
So choke it down, pretend it’s fine, and carry on. And if anyone asks how the coffee is? Just nod, stare blankly into the distance, and say: "It does the job." Because that’s all it will ever do.
– Uncle Bobby