Coffee for the 9 to 5
Slaving away. Paying dem bills. Fueled by coffee.
It's 6:15am and the first alarm goes off.
Your partner stirs as your phone fills the once quiet room with Black Box’s classic Ride on time.
“Gotta get up, gotta get up, gotta get up.”
The searing vocals drag you kicking and screaming out of the most vivid dreams of the night and into the grim, cold, unwelcoming real world.
Eventually you find the snooze button. Or more likely, you just throw your phone through the wall, and doze back to sleep.
The second alarm goes at 7:15am. The trusty clock radio has been spared a violent end (so far) and manages to softly bring you back to consciousness with the delicate voices of your local radio newsreader.
You get up. You stare at yourself in the mirror. Dead shark eyes stare back, surrounded by bags big enough to crawl into.
You give yourself a motivational talk: “those who doubt your ability, probably have a valid reason.”
You contemplate a shower, but you only have 15 minutes before you need to leave, and you have to get the kettle on. You reek, but just about as much as everyone else. So who gives a toot.
Work coffee is bad coffee
If you enjoy coffee on a level that your colleagues can't comprehend, the time at the office or on the job site can be agonizing.
The 5kg Nescafe tin sitting in the corner of the office kitchenette is older than that outstanding library fine you keep ignoring. You’re so tired you contemplate brewing it up anyway.
But the contents of that godforsaken tin would be more useful as a way to sandblast the remaining paint off that unfinished northern side of the house - you know, the side you said you'd finish over summer but it was always ‘too hot’. Useless.
There must be a better way. A coffee that is easy to brew in the office, on the road or six floors up a construction site. Something that is always delicious and rewards a bit of time and effort. Right?
Thankfully, there is a better way!
But it comes with risk.
It doesn't matter if you work with seasoned builders with calluses on their hands from hammering all day, or office workers who have broken nails from typing all day - the level of grief you'll get for trying to enjoy a delicious cup at work is almost universal.
Help me Ronda, help, help me, Ronda
Here's your comprehensive comparison of coffee for the working classes, ranked by the amount of shit your colleagues will give you, verses the enjoyment factor you’ll get.
What are the options?
Robert Harris instant (cos you read Consumer Mag - fancy boy)
Specialty instant (BYO from home and you mentioned how much you spent)
French Press (but you do it properly - a full 8 minute brew)
The results are in.
If you’re a scaredy-cat, hit the office Nescafe. You’ll hate yourself but you’ll also have the maximum chance going under the radar.
If you’re a brave soul, the full Origami set it up is the way to go. You’ll enjoy the best coffee you can in the office, but be prepared to cop the abuse (have HR on speed dial).
If you just want good coffee to get through the day, the Swiss Gold is for you. Some people will query you, but most will just shrug their shoulders and get on with their day.
It’s always a balance.
Some days you can handle the abuse, and are willing to stare lovingly in to a bag of carefully sorted Kenyan peaberry.
Other days, that side eye you’ll get from Shardinaye might be the thing that tips you over the edge into a full blown rage, and you’ll reach for the office nescafe.
It worked for Matt, but in my experience, for every two people you convert, 10 people will dunk you in the communal loo, laughing while toilet water seeps into your lungs.
It’s important to be fully informed. Consenting adults, and all that.
Better living everyone.