The Keurig at work, which was graciously donated by a group who moved into our building with us a few months back, has died.
This is really sad. I mean really. I had faithfully walked past the coffee machine ameritus – i.e. the decades-old, company provided, distributor neglected coffee machine – for the past few weeks. I occasionally even went so far as to mentally thumb my nose at the old beast, known too well for churning out a hideously tasting brew, in order to get to the holy corner where the Keurig awaited me.
Ah, there it is, like a close friend, waiting for me to approach with mug and K-Cup in hand. Starting the brewing cycle on this lovely machine was such a giddy event, that I would often attempt to make small talk, albeit one-sided, with the machine as it brewed my Breakfast Blend or Donut Shop Blend coffee. It had truly become quite the routine. The experience was so “life changing” that I was actually in the process of slowly authoring a long, loving essay for inclusion on this site.
But it was not to be…
The dark realization that the Keurig had brewed it’s last cup of aromatic nirvana came when, like so many other times before, I innocently placed my cup under the machine’s spout and then lifted the cover. This time, however, I found a used pod inside. And not just any used pod. This pod had water still inside it. This was a “bad sign”. I removed the old pod and inserted my new one, pressed brew and then listened for the heavenly hum which indicated brewing was in progress. This time, however, that sweet sound was replaced with the alarming sound of broken gears gnashing together in a vain attempt to satisfy my morning thirst.
And with that sound, came to me the realization that it was finished. Our time together was over. I would have to trudge back to the company coffee pot, and make the best of the swill it would continue to produce.
And so I go…