Today I would like to examine an issue affecting white collar workers across the nation. The office worker, the nameless cog in the machinery of capitalism, suffers at the hand of an unseen perpetrator. I�m not talking about The Man, though signs indicate that his ability to keep a brother down continues unabated. No, I�m talking about someone more sinister: the drinker of the last cup of coffee.

Stealthier than a ninja, you can no sooner lay your hand on this individual than you can the glass ceiling. But they make themselves known in similar ways. You see the symptoms of their existence, all the while that existence is denied by those around you.

Does this mean that we can do nothing? No! Maybe we can�t fight The Power. God knows you can�t fight City Hall. And maybe the rhythm IS gonna get you, but damn it! This man who takes the last cup of coffee without refilling the pot is just that; a man. A mortal man. And if I catch him, I�m going to kick the fucking shit out him.

What is so hard about refilling the pot? Everyone knows the drill. You take coffee, you make coffee. You kill the joe, you make some mo�. Who hasn�t learned this? Everyone has, and that�s what makes it so evil. This individual knows the rules, and he flaunts them! What concern has he for your caffeine addiction? None at all! He has his, and to hell with the world! I swear, this is how the House of Saud got started.

And who are the victims? This man�s co-workers. His so-called friends. He is insidious and callous. He knows who he hurts, and he doesn�t care. For all you know, it�s that guy who stops by your cubicle each morning to discuss the reality show from the previous night (You know, that show where people embarrass themselves for a moment of fame� oh, what�s it called? The one where people vote and they had that hot blonde chick on it that one time? No, the other one. Yeah, that one.). The bastard. He kept you there, all the time drinking out of his steaming cup, and when you finally get to the pot, all that�s left is a thin layer of thickening liquid. As if someone were making java syrup. Reducing, blackened and burnt, like this man�s heart. Jesus, doesn�t anybody smell that?

Wake up people. Wake up and smell the empty pot! There�s something brewing, but it�s not dark roasted Columbian, it�s evil! We can stamp out this problem in our time. We need to assure that no one leaves the coffee maker unobserved. Apparently, eternal vigilance is the price of coffee. A watched pot is never drained. You take the first shift, and I�ll relieve you at 9:00. Just make sure there�s a fresh pot, righteous anger is exhausting.