Office Coffee comes in many flavors, colors, and smells, but we can all agree - unless you live in Seattle - that its not too particularly good. Whether 3-day old grinds, Dollar store brew, or the tar-like qualities a pot gets when its reheated for the umpteenth time, we still drink it. It’s a commodity and a convenience, a welcome blessing when rushing to work so unprepared your cowlicks bear calves by noon. Sometimes the coffe pot was brought from home, if you are lucky, you have a Bunn. And its all managed under the watchful eye of the “coffee clutch”

The clutch is that group of up-in-age office management bitties, the ones that order supplies and do your timesheets. They don’t actually drink the coffee, though some claim fealty, but by god there is always a full jar of sugar packets and a box of creamers, straws, napkins on the table; everything you need to forget that the coffee still tastes like shit. All they ask is that you pay.