I'll Have An Irish Coffee, Hold The Coffee

I'm waiting by the coffee pot for the sweet, sweet caffeine to brew. I'm not a coffee drinker by any means. I'll drink it if there's nothing else and I can dump three pounds of sugar and Splenda into it, but ordinarily, I prefer my old lady tea with just a hint of honey or peppermint. But, the office is cold and I'm tired. And since my office generally frowns upon giving it's employees cocaine or, y'know, maybe a blanket, I have little choice left than to suck it up and wait for the coffee. This must've also been the sentiments of one of my co-workers, Charlie.

"I didn't know you drank coffee," he tells me.

"I don't," I say. He snorts. I love snort-laughers. You know they're genuine because nobody fakes a snort-laugh. Snort-laughing is embarrassing and it usually sounds like an indirect result of someone dropping you on your head when you were an infant.

There's a pile of chocolates by the coffee pot. Call me a traitor to my gender, but I'm not really a chocolate fan either. If I'm going to splurge on something, then it's going to be a cheeseburger or a burrito or a cheeseburger inside a burrito. Charlie can't stop looking at the chocolates.

"Want one?" he asks me. I make a face and shake my head. "Nah," I say. "There's only enough room in this tumsy (Karina slang for tummy) for liquid."

Charlie steps a little closer and grabs two chocolates from the bowl. "I think you want one," he says.

"Whoa," I'm thinking. "You need to step up off me. I am cold, I am cranky and I fucked up my liquid eyeliner this morning and now I look like a raccoon. Cute look on them, scary, soul sucking look on ladies. So fuck you, I don't want any chocolate." But, being an essentially nice girl, I sigh, take the chocolate and stuff it into my pocket. Charlie looks wounded.

"I'll eat it later," I say.

"You didn't even look at it," he says. I pull the chocolate out and look at it. It's one of those alcohol filled chocolates. Jack Daniels chocolate, to be exact.

"What?!" I exclaim. "Who brought these in?"

"I don't know, man," Charlie laughs. "I didn't think you were ever going to get it."

Charlie and I crack jokes about who brought in the chocolate. "Is this even allowed in an office setting?" I ask.

"I don't know. But if these were my chocolates, there's no way I'd share 'em with everyone. I'd horde them all year," Charlie says.

"Yea, and turn into a massive alcoholic," I say.

Charlie looks at me as I unwrap my chocolate. "Are you even old enough to be eating those, little girl?"

"Charles, I am an adult," I say biting into the chocolate. Gooey, carmel-esque Jack Daniels spills onto my chin.

"I thought this would be more, uh, liquidy," I say. Charlie snort laughs again and pours his coffee. I think from now on, I'll just bring my old lady tea.