The Office Coffee Cup

I opened the kitchen cabinet door and I spied them. The duo of office coffee cups I used at my two previous full-time jobs.

The taller, leaner one was fashioned to look like a glass beaker for measuring liquids. I bought it years ago at a nearby science museum where I brought my niece and nephew when they were much younger. So the science theme fits.

The other mirrors a more traditional ceramic mug emblazed with the face one of my favorite authors from my English Lit major days, Nathaniel Hawthorne. Admittedly pretentious, I bought it — where else? — Barnes & Noble. It’s tan and sedate.

The office cup was the first thing I brought to my job after I was hired. It was the first item packed away after being laid off.

Now, they sit on my shelf, never used since I carted them home. Like me, they’re still there, but unlikely to fulfill their purpose ever again.

I remember when I was hired again after being out of work for 16 months, I didn’t want to take the same coffee cup with me to my new job. Genetically superstitious (I blame it on my Italian heritage), I thought it would bring bad luck. Whatever karma I believed I would avoid with a different coffee cup was sadly misguided. I was laid off again.

I don’t know why I keep them. Why not just trash them (as I was) or recycle them (as I’m hoping to be in a new job). Maybe I keep them as a reminder.

A reminder of what, I wonder. Two painful layoffs and extended periods of unemployment. Still-hovering financial struggles. My fading hope of finding work. Perhaps I simply don’t want to discard items that could still be useful someday. Too bad potential employers didn’t view me the same way.

Is there any more depressing and archaic symbol of office work than the office coffee cup? It’s the first thing workers grab in the morning, whether in a haughty paper cup from Starbucks, the ceramic mug on their desk filled with bleak-tasting, office-brewed coffee, those blue-and-white Greek-styled ones from a food truck or diner, or, my favorite, the more egalitarian Dunkin Donuts orange-and-pink version. Sometimes, commuters fill a carafe with coffee so they can drink in the joe while driving or taking mass transit. I once took a carafe on a light rail train and spilled it.

Then, at their desks, workers sip the steaming liquid, simultaneously calmed and jolted for the day presented before them. It's a comforting ritual, as long as the coffee doesn't spill. Oh, my, how life and coffee can be upended...

Yet sometimes I think I never want to bring another coffee cup to an office ever again. I'll drink my morning coffee at home.