By Anne W., January 30, 2019 — After grieving the loss of my husband, Tim, to cancer, I reluctantly returned to my full-time job as a real estate agent at a local agency in mid-2009. The morning of my return to work, I arrived at the office early, prior to any of my colleagues or the agency manager, Steve. I went about my normal routine, making a pot of coffee and getting ready to sit down at my desk to begin the day’s work. By the time I had sat down at my desk with a cup of coffee, my colleague, Joe, had arrived. Immediately, he noticed my presence and the coffee mug I was using that day.
A man of few words, he simply stated, “That’s my mug.”
I chuckled and replied, “There’s plenty more in the kitchen.”
He seemed unsatisfied with that response. “Steve made it a new rule while you were out that we all use our own mugs,” he said.
I was baffled – does Steve think we’re children who can’t be trusted to share coffee mugs? Is this really the first conversation I’m having upon returning to work after the loss of my husband? Calmly, I suggested to Joe that he simply use my mug for the day and promised not to make the mistake again. Hesitantly, Joe complied and went to the kitchen to find the mug I had just described to him – one embossed with the sentiment, “Make It Happen”. Soon thereafter, Steve arrived at the office. He greeted us and headed to the kitchen to grab some coffee.
Within seconds, he returned from the kitchen, venting to Joe, “Damn it, that’s my coffee cup!”
Joe quickly glanced at me with confusion. I spoke up in his defense, “I took his mug by accident this morning – I didn’t realize it would be such a big deal. And anyway, that’s actually my mug!”
Steve vehemently disagreed, stating he had been exclusively using the mug for months. Briskly, I reminded Steve that I had bought a dozen identical mugs embossed with that saying for everyone to use when he had opened the new office.
Steve, a little taken aback by my tone, said, “How about I give you ten dollars for it, then?”
I retorted, “Are you kidding? How about we all just use a different mug for one day and leave it at that?”
Stunned, Steve angrily threw up his hands and walked away. Did I really just have a 10-minute quarrel over office coffee mugs all before I had even begun the day’s work? After such a devastating loss, I was astounded that two adult men could be so bothered by someone using the wrong coffee mug. Have they never endured true hardship? Perhaps the greatest anguish these men had experienced was someone using their mug. Lucky them.
