errol bracer | he shouldn’t be here

[dars]

nineteen
literally he was supposed to be getting coffee
please help him it’s his first day he’s so lost

[dars]

Now, I don’t want to seem like I’m complaining, but today has been... Well, it’s been rough.

For starters, it is my first day on the job. The description seemed easy enough: order coffee, make copies, deliver sticky notes to people wearing suits when they were in meetings. A lot of people had applied. I’d actually thought, when I got it, that it was some positive reflection of my potential. In reality, it’s probably more to do with the fact that I am young and inexperienced and this is my first ever job meaning everyone can walk all over me and I have no idea what to do about it.

I hadn’t had the foresight to grab my notepad out of my bag, which wasn’t an issue until one coffee order became two, then three, then five, then— you get the idea. Since I didn’t have a pen and paper, I had just been reciting it over and over to myself: “One black, no cream or sugar, one macchiato, one coffee two cream two sugar, one espresso, one vanilla bean frappe no whipped cream— wait, no. Maybe it was extra whipped cream. Or maybe the macchiato wanted whipped cream. What the hell is a macchiat- Sir? Oh, yeah! Coffee run! Double shot espresso? Sure!”

By the time I got back to my desk— the term of endearment I called the small counter space they’d given me to keep my bag on— I was certain I had mixed up at least half of the orders, but I wrote them down as best as I could during the panic of the office. Honestly, I was looking forward to getting out of the chaos for a second. I was on my way when something that sounded a lot like my name was called, amongst others, all of whom were asked to follow a person.

In hindsight, I think maybe they said, like, Darrell. Or maybe someone else was named Errol. Not sure. Point is: I am positive they didn’t mean for me to be here. But it’s too late now. If I mentioned anything, I would probably get fired. And if I didn’t, then I would have to go back to a room full of people who were angry that they hadn’t gotten their macchiatos with (maybe) extra whipped cream. So, I called my grandma and told her I was gonna be late and to please put a plate of dinner in the microwave for me. And now, I’m expected to. Handle. Wild animals.

How’s your day?