Cron Job #16

Federal Espresso

Note to all concerned readers: Yes, I realize it's been a little while since my last Cron Job, but, well, quite frankly, what do you expect me to do about it? Send you a refund? Sheesh.

But anyway, I've recently been picked up by a respectable publication (the Berkeley Internet Herald), which means I actually have to start acting responsible... well, to a point, anyway. I mean, I'm still going make jokes involving "Lake Titicaca" if I can get away with it. But here's your damn issue. Now stop bugging me.

So many of you ask me "What kind of work are you doing at Oracle?" (Actually, I believe the question was actually phrased more like, "Why the hell did Oracle hire you?" but it's pretty much the same thing.) to which I usually repond, "Oh, just sit around my desk and watch my screensaver all day." Unless you're my manager, then I say something that includes the words "utilizing full potential". "Putting the customer first" is also a good phrase to use.

But when I'm not sitting around watching my screen saver, I have other important jobs: such as drinking espresso. (By the way, 10 bonus nerd points to anybody who read that last sentence and thought of an Internet Java-related programming thing instead of the actual drink.) You see, our group decided the other day that we really wanted to get a capuccino machine. Well, naturally, somebody had to shop around and test out various machines to decide what to get. I reluctantly took the job. "I guess I'll do it," I sighed, accidentally shoving two other volunteers to the ground and muffling their shouts with Post-it notes.

So the past few weeks, I've been spending my time trying out various espresso machines. I haven't slept since February 18th. I'd be a really productive worker too, if it weren't for the fact that I have to go to the bathroom every 3 minutes.

But drinking espresso isn't just full of parties, rock music, and women in bikinis like you see on TV -- no, wait, never mind. That's beer. Actually, as long as I'm on this tangent, can I ask what the deal is with people on beer commercials not being allowed to actually drink the stuff? (Background for those of you readers in Australia who already think Americans are big wimps: For some reason, the government does not allow people on beer commercials to actually drink the beer. True fact!) Like this is actually fooling people? Like there are kids who go out and buy six-packs of beer, and then just stand around holding it, like they do on TV? How dumb does our government think kids are, anyway? They're smarter than you think. I mean, heck, your kids are stealing money out of your wallet right now to go buy beer, as you're reading this column. Right now. I'm serious. Turn around.

Oh, too late. You missed them. But I digress...

The point I was making is that trying out espresso machines is a lot of hard work. Like meeting with espresso salesmen. Espresso salesmen are kind of like car salesmen, but much more intense because they're all hyped up on caffeine. I think the worst part is the way they smile and talk to you. The way of talking that says, "Hi, Todd. I'm going to use your first name every chance I get, Todd, and I'm going to act very concerned, Todd, about every menial thing in your life as if it were the Greatest Piece of News in The History Of The Universe even though all I'm really thinking about is that piece of food you've got in between your teeth, Todd."

The other nasty part comes when they ask me to show them how easy is easy to operate one of their machines by making some capuccino myself. Usually, I end up spraying everybody in a 10 foot radius with scalding-hot milk. You guys should be lucky I'm not working at a cafe somewhere. I can see it now... "Todd's Cafe Of Pain (If you don't leave here with a first-degree burn, the drink's free!)" Actually, that might go over really well here in Haight-Ashbury, now that tatooing, body piercing, and body scarring are all passe and kids need a new way to mutilate themselves in order to rebel against their parents (whose allowance is probably paying for the piercing in the first place, but I guess that's not important).

First rebellious kid wearing black: Dude, are you going to Todd's Cafe of Pain tonight?
Second rebellious kid wearing black: Why, are they burning people again?
First rebellious kid: No. John Tesh is playing. Wanna go?
Second rebellious kid: Hey, I might be into self-mutilation, but I'm not crazy.
So, I usually end up burning a) myself and b) the salesman, who manages to give me a warm, genuine, sincere, smile, while screaming in agony between his teeth.

That's the fun part of the job.


Cron Job is a more-or-less weekly column (except this week) by Todd Kerpelman. Send comments and bags of Peet's coffee to todd@kerp.net.

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