The Tea Round
I’ve never known anything cause as much as distress in the office as the rights and wrongs of the tea round. I mean, he never makes his fair share, or she keeps changing her order and thats just so confusing. And some people have their special mug, that says “Worlds Best Grandpa” or needs their tea to be just the right colour or they’ll go an make their own. And that one woman who has special herbal tea from wherever so makes it themselves, a little round of one. Oh, and which team is in which round, or this round is too big now and takes up too much time and is just an excuse to gossip in the kitchen.
Lets not forget the hints and coughs and ostentatious checking of empty mugs, the strange game of chicken when no-one wants to make the round. Or the false surprise when the mugs leave the desk, the protestations that they’d forgotten it was “that time” already. The twitching, clock watching glances across to the rest room door to see how long it is all taking.
Me, I always take my turn, always do my round. I smile, collect the mugs, make little notes on who wants what and I’m always quick in the kitchen. After all, I don’t want anyone to see what really goes in the mugs.