Learning to Live in Belgium: The Coffemachines
Moving to a new country is not easy. Moving to Belgium can be, well, pretty weird.
The office I work in is big and shiny. The workareas are well lit, the carpet is spotless, the floors are always polished, things are clean, clean, clean and the coffee machines are excessively wonderful. The coffee machines are big and shiny and have many buttons -- buttons that let you select luxuriously perfect servings of coffee (with your choice of a lot of milk and sugar, a little milk and sugar, or an average amount of milk and sugar), cappuccino, espresso, hot chocolate, cafe mocha, tea, and hot water. Wonderful. No matter what button you press, out pops a little red cup into the little red cup holder, and with a pleasant little whirrrr, out spouts your precisely desired combination of gorgeous coffee, cocoa, or tea, sugar and milk. Absolutely lovely. With one teeny tiny exception: The little red cup. It's, well, really little. It holds almost the exact amount of hot beverage that I can comfortably consume in the time it takes me to get from the wonderful coffee maker back to my desk. Many a morning I've arrived at my desk, just as I drain the last of the contents of my little red cup only to toss it into one of "my" 3 assigned refuge recepticles (note: one of these is just for little red cups, one is for paper, one is for 'semi organics'... whatever that is, but I've yet to determine which is which) and start back down the hallway for a second serving... the coffee adicts version of 'shampoo. rinse. repeat'.
I have tried various strategies. I have tried drinking a little red cup of coffee while standing at the coffee machine and then taking a 2nd cup back to my desk. The Europeans have a word for this. It's 'gluttony' and it's to be avoided. I've tried taking 2 cups at once and pretending the 2nd cup is for someone else -- but the little red cups are made of thin plastic and get really hot really fast. With one cup, one can keep changing hands to avoid getting scalded. With two cups, I end up blowing on/drinking from both of them and then have to throw out two empty cups by the time I reach my desk. Also, it's hard to appear as though you are bringing the 2nd cup to someone else when you are frantically blowing on and drinking from both of them.
And honestly, all I really want is to be able to enjoy a steaming proper mug-full of coffee at my desk while I work. To this end, this morning I decided to 'trick' the coffee machine into giving me a proper, North-American sized mug of coffee.
Some time ago, I read the HR-issued coffee machine press release (this is Belgium; there are corporate press releases on every topic) which instructs people needing 'extra' hot water for things like soup, to swing out the molded plastic 'extra liquid catcher' sitting underneath the liquid spiggot, and the coffee machine would continue to dispense hotwater until the reservoire was swung back into place. For those of you not quite following me, it's like a hinged version of the overspills you see at self-serve soda machines or some coffee shops that catch excess liquid generated by kids playing with the 7-up or by people pouring off the top 1/8th of their Starbucks grande lattes so they can add some cooling milk. Basically, it's a little hinged bucket to prevent overspill messes.
Ok. So this morning I brought in my Tim Hortons mug and decided to see if the reservoire method would work with coffee as well as with water. With a quick look around to confirm there were no witnesses, I swung out the plastic overflow reservoire, put my Tims mug in place, and pressed 'coffee, med-milk, no sugar'. With a little whirrrl, the wonderful coffee machine began to spray a lovely milk/coffee combo into my Tims mug. And then paused. With a jazzy little kick-ball-change the coffee machine didn't miss a beat and started to serve out a 2nd helping of the perfectly proportioned coffee/milk combo into my mug. This was too good to be true! Pause--two-three-four! and whoosh -- a third portion! but, uuuh wait, my cup is getting really full... uh... ok... uh... that's enough thanks... Pause-two-three-four! Whoosh! Oh shite! I grabbed my overflowing cup and closed the overflow, assuming this would stop the whole production. Wrong. My coffee machine was in the middle of some Skinner-esque fixed action pattern. Pause-Two-three-four! Squirt! The reservoire hadn't completely shut and coffee continued to stream cheerfully down the front of the otherwise immaculate coffee machine and pool onto the otherwise immaculate carpet.
Damage control? No options. I slammed the reservoire shut and walked, or rather, stalked away, with a dangerously full coffee mug in hand. This particular mug, unfortunately is ergonomically designed to for maximum enjoyment while sitting and sipping, not for fleeing a crime scene. Try as I might, I could not avoid leaving little beige splooches of coffee all the way down the long corridor to my desk.
I'm sure they'll never figure out it was me. If they do, I'm hoping they are too polite to say anything. Then again, this is Belgium. I'll let you know if I receive a citiation in the mail 6-8 weeks from now.
Moving to a new country is not easy. Moving to Belgium can be, well, pretty weird.
The office I work in is big and shiny. The workareas are well lit, the carpet is spotless, the floors are always polished, things are clean, clean, clean and the coffee machines are excessively wonderful. The coffee machines are big and shiny and have many buttons -- buttons that let you select luxuriously perfect servings of coffee (with your choice of a lot of milk and sugar, a little milk and sugar, or an average amount of milk and sugar), cappuccino, espresso, hot chocolate, cafe mocha, tea, and hot water. Wonderful. No matter what button you press, out pops a little red cup into the little red cup holder, and with a pleasant little whirrrr, out spouts your precisely desired combination of gorgeous coffee, cocoa, or tea, sugar and milk. Absolutely lovely. With one teeny tiny exception: The little red cup. It's, well, really little. It holds almost the exact amount of hot beverage that I can comfortably consume in the time it takes me to get from the wonderful coffee maker back to my desk. Many a morning I've arrived at my desk, just as I drain the last of the contents of my little red cup only to toss it into one of "my" 3 assigned refuge recepticles (note: one of these is just for little red cups, one is for paper, one is for 'semi organics'... whatever that is, but I've yet to determine which is which) and start back down the hallway for a second serving... the coffee adicts version of 'shampoo. rinse. repeat'.
I have tried various strategies. I have tried drinking a little red cup of coffee while standing at the coffee machine and then taking a 2nd cup back to my desk. The Europeans have a word for this. It's 'gluttony' and it's to be avoided. I've tried taking 2 cups at once and pretending the 2nd cup is for someone else -- but the little red cups are made of thin plastic and get really hot really fast. With one cup, one can keep changing hands to avoid getting scalded. With two cups, I end up blowing on/drinking from both of them and then have to throw out two empty cups by the time I reach my desk. Also, it's hard to appear as though you are bringing the 2nd cup to someone else when you are frantically blowing on and drinking from both of them.
And honestly, all I really want is to be able to enjoy a steaming proper mug-full of coffee at my desk while I work. To this end, this morning I decided to 'trick' the coffee machine into giving me a proper, North-American sized mug of coffee.
Some time ago, I read the HR-issued coffee machine press release (this is Belgium; there are corporate press releases on every topic) which instructs people needing 'extra' hot water for things like soup, to swing out the molded plastic 'extra liquid catcher' sitting underneath the liquid spiggot, and the coffee machine would continue to dispense hotwater until the reservoire was swung back into place. For those of you not quite following me, it's like a hinged version of the overspills you see at self-serve soda machines or some coffee shops that catch excess liquid generated by kids playing with the 7-up or by people pouring off the top 1/8th of their Starbucks grande lattes so they can add some cooling milk. Basically, it's a little hinged bucket to prevent overspill messes.
Ok. So this morning I brought in my Tim Hortons mug and decided to see if the reservoire method would work with coffee as well as with water. With a quick look around to confirm there were no witnesses, I swung out the plastic overflow reservoire, put my Tims mug in place, and pressed 'coffee, med-milk, no sugar'. With a little whirrrl, the wonderful coffee machine began to spray a lovely milk/coffee combo into my Tims mug. And then paused. With a jazzy little kick-ball-change the coffee machine didn't miss a beat and started to serve out a 2nd helping of the perfectly proportioned coffee/milk combo into my mug. This was too good to be true! Pause--two-three-four! and whoosh -- a third portion! but, uuuh wait, my cup is getting really full... uh... ok... uh... that's enough thanks... Pause-two-three-four! Whoosh! Oh shite! I grabbed my overflowing cup and closed the overflow, assuming this would stop the whole production. Wrong. My coffee machine was in the middle of some Skinner-esque fixed action pattern. Pause-Two-three-four! Squirt! The reservoire hadn't completely shut and coffee continued to stream cheerfully down the front of the otherwise immaculate coffee machine and pool onto the otherwise immaculate carpet.
Damage control? No options. I slammed the reservoire shut and walked, or rather, stalked away, with a dangerously full coffee mug in hand. This particular mug, unfortunately is ergonomically designed to for maximum enjoyment while sitting and sipping, not for fleeing a crime scene. Try as I might, I could not avoid leaving little beige splooches of coffee all the way down the long corridor to my desk.
I'm sure they'll never figure out it was me. If they do, I'm hoping they are too polite to say anything. Then again, this is Belgium. I'll let you know if I receive a citiation in the mail 6-8 weeks from now.
posted by Penless Artist at 8:41 p.m.
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