DON'T Drink the Schwaffee

The shuttle doors open, and then we load. The lights turn yellow, but never red, as a mass of uniformity fills the horizon, obstructing the mountain view. A rush of adrenaline pours in as I file out, fighting an urge to break away, to run, but I don't. There I am, in this building absent color. The heels of my wooden black dress shoes click on the white tiles below, as I enter through the glass gate and into the steel lift 

Without stopping, we're on my floor, the fourth. The elevator lobby gives way to one of the few choices in my day. Go right toward my cubicle, or left toward the break room. I go left. In a last second attempt to find some motivation, I gulp down not one, but two cups of luke warm Schwaffee. It's no use. I try desperately to spark up a conversation with someone, anyone, anything, to keep me from that cube. But even in a room full of people, no one's there.   

Through a sea of tired, uninspired faces, I make my way to my pen. At 7:42am, 12 minutes after my shift began, I finally hit the dreaded "available" button and begin. Ten hours, 92 calls, and four more cups of Schwafee, then it ends. My exhausted, aching body, drags itself toward the steel shaft. But this time with urgency.  

The silhouette of my sofa, softly illuminated in the waning light pulls me in. And finally, I'm free. Seemingly minutes later, the chirp of my alarm pierces the precious silence. I'll try seven cups today.  

 

Schwaffee 

/shh-wahh-fee/ 

noun 

- a diluted, brown, coffee like beverage, most often served neither hot or cold, but in between.  

Origin- 9899 Schwab Way Ste 100, Lone Tree, CO 80124