Where's the Milk???!!!!

Occasionally, the atmosphere becomes thicker than usual in my office. Tension, anger, frustration, irritation weigh down upon us causing everyone to fidget uncomfortably, until suddenly, an audible cry of dismay, accompanied by a series of curses, sounds through the cubicled halls. And with that alarm, the rest of the employees follow suit, until the office reverberates in a cacophony of bitching. Fingers are pointed, threats are made, people are ridiculed, camaraderies are destroyed. The scene is worse than the bloodiest of battles.

Generally these incidents occur on Tuesday, as Tuesday is the day the milk comes. Every Tuesday morning, we all drop by the kitchen to make our coffee, toast our bread, microwave our oatmeal. The universe appears to be aligned until someone opens the refrigerator only to discover 5 half-and-half cartons and 0 skim milk cartons. Such a discovery is quite unsettling to someone with a bowl of dry cereal or someone else, on a diet, with a cup of our tasteless coffee. And it becomes even more infuriating when, after stomaching the cereal moistened with water or consoling oneself for wasting 200 calories on half-and-half, the milk man himself strolls in, whistling "row row row your boat," at 11 o'clock on the dot.

At 11:10, after we've all finished our weekly tantrums we begin to think about a solution to this milk crisis. We've all deduced, some more quickly than others, that our office consumes more skim milk than half-and-half. Therefore, the solution would be to receive more skim milk and less half-and-half. And so we ask ourselves, how does the milkman know how much milk to bring and which types to bring? After interrogating the man myself one particularly tragic Tuesday, I confirmed (though I already suspected) that WE in fact make such decisions. By we, I mean, a representative, though not elected, from our company which inhabits one floor and which is comprised of approximately 50 people, makes such a decision. After careful investigation, (which involved simply asking the office manager), we finally identified the milk-orderer.

And so, after deliberating for hours on how to discuss the matter with the milk-orderer, several office leaders approached her. They attempted to explain the horrific scenes which occur every Tuesday, the pain and suffering of the employees who rely on the skim milk and the sadness which fills the office in the aftermath. Then they proposed our solution of ordering more skim and less half-and-half; they even added another idea- ask the milk man to come on Mondays instead! They held their breath in anticipation of the milk-orderer's response. She was silent. Then she finally opened her mouth. She said, "okay." The office leaders let out their breaths in a whoosh of relief, laughing and clapping each other on the back. They walked around the floor, spreading the good news, all the while swelling with pride for finally stopping the milk crisis. But I was suspicious.

Next Tuesday rolled around, and we all anxiously crowded around the refrigerator. No one wanted to open that door, but we knew we must, not only to find out our future milk quota, but also because some of us were quite hungry and wanted milk for our cereal immediately. We cringed as someone pulled on the handle. We let out a little yelp as the door slowly creaked open. And, after opening our tightly squeezed eyes, we saw...

5 HALF-AND-HALF CARTONS AND 0 SKIM MILK CARTONS!!!!!!!!

Some crises cannot be resolved. On Tuesday mornings, I always buy Starbucks.