Just a splash

I’ve been working at the same office for a bit over ten years now. In that time I have never, once, spilled a drink on my desk. Until now.

In fact, it seems that all these years…. I was just saving up for the big one.

I suspect I could have made less of a mess if I’d simply opted to drop a water balloon in the middle of my desk, but nooooooo… I had to slip while picking up a full bottle of Starbucks Vanilla Frappuccino. In the mad scrabble to not actually drop it, I managed to give it a good shake instead, and launched one part coffee, one part sugar in a spray across A) my desk, and B) my self.

Cleanup became a sort of game, wherein every time I thought I was pretty much done, I somehow, somewhere found some more. The next time the phone rang I picked it up and gave myself an earful of sticky liquid. The splash had somehow made its way up the wall a ways. It got behind books, and under the base of the desk lamp.

By some miracle it seemed to have made a perfect nothing-but-net field goal (yeah, I know. shut up.) trajectory between my laptop and the brand spanking new document scanner, as neither was significantly soaked, though they could have, and either one would have made of a very expensive accident.

But I did, as I mentioned before, get myself. My shirt (fortunately dark in color) was covered, my pants got it pretty good in front, my glasses were flecked, and about ten minuted into cleanup I discovered that a good portion of the front of my hair was, in fact, newly crunchy.

There’s a reason I spill only rarely — when I spill a drink, I don’t kid around.

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