A few months ago I bought this coffee machine. High-tech. Like a boxcar full of Japanese engineers. And with it, comes these little capsules. Colourful. Durable. Full of coffees.
Each capsule is worth one coffee. Or espresso, if you have the desire to, or already have hair on your chest. And unfortunately, there’s only two known places in France where you can purchase these capsules.
So when I went to register my coffee machine, I was offered to purchase a Welcome Pack, which consisted of 250 individual capsules sampling the vast array of flavours, strengths and colours from coffees around the world, and Africa. Seventy-nine Euros later, I took my kitchen counter public.
Also, I have this little silver holder which can hold up to 40 of these coffee plugs. And it rotates. Which guys like. But the other day, I noticed I was down to 6 decaf coffees and no real coffees. As I opened the cupboard where I previously placed the above-mentioned Welcome Pack with 250 individual capsules sampling the vast array of flavours, strengths and colours from coffees around the world, and Africa, I noticed something amiss.
They were gone.
Stolen.
Like my new television set.
So now, as I’m down one Flat Screen and all of my coffees, I sit here, drinking decaf, struggling to comprehend how one man can do so much emotional harm to their fellow man.
Each capsule is worth one coffee. Or espresso, if you have the desire to, or already have hair on your chest. And unfortunately, there’s only two known places in France where you can purchase these capsules.
So when I went to register my coffee machine, I was offered to purchase a Welcome Pack, which consisted of 250 individual capsules sampling the vast array of flavours, strengths and colours from coffees around the world, and Africa. Seventy-nine Euros later, I took my kitchen counter public.
Also, I have this little silver holder which can hold up to 40 of these coffee plugs. And it rotates. Which guys like. But the other day, I noticed I was down to 6 decaf coffees and no real coffees. As I opened the cupboard where I previously placed the above-mentioned Welcome Pack with 250 individual capsules sampling the vast array of flavours, strengths and colours from coffees around the world, and Africa, I noticed something amiss.
They were gone.
Stolen.
Like my new television set.
So now, as I’m down one Flat Screen and all of my coffees, I sit here, drinking decaf, struggling to comprehend how one man can do so much emotional harm to their fellow man.
