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The Coffeemaker Sales Man: When It Doesn't Pay to be too Chatty

The manner with which I broke the beaker of my coffeemaker last Saturday was remarkably similar to the one with which I broke the first. Having just awakened and still walking about groggily like a zombie in the kitchen, I mechanically pulled the beaker from the heater and clumsily let it slip from my fingers – and into the floor.

To be fair, the beaker was remarkably sturdy. It broke, alright! But only in certain places… It traveled a good yard-and-a-half down to the floor. Other types of glasses would have shattered into galactic pieces!

Now, try to imagine me without coffee for a whole weekend! Put it this way… On any given day, a mug of black coffee attempts to convince me that I have – indeed – awakened. The second mug motivates me to try to do something with the rest of the day.

Without these two mugs – and I cannot now remember the last time I went without – I was, and this is stating it mildly, lungangê until Monday morning. I cannot remember having ever having fallen into so much lethargy as I did over the weekend! All I did was eat, sleep and watch television.

Of course, come Monday, among the priorities in the to-do list was to get a replacement coffeemaker.

At the Department Store inside Rob this evening before going home, the sales clerk was dutifully practicing what he had learned in training – on me. “This one comes with a measuring cup for scooping the coffee,” he told me pleasantly. Then, he proceeded to open the water receptacle, plucked the measuring cup from inside with his fingers and held it up for me to inspect in the light.


Encouraged by my wry smile, he went on, “You can actually wash the coffee powder filter, unlike other brands for which you have to buy disposable paper filters.”

Bravo na naman!

I must commend myself for my patience; in all honesty, I wanted to tell him to shut the eff up because I was tired from scrimmage and my feet were killing me. Instead, I smiled at him and told him, “Yes, I know. It’s almost exactly the same model as the one I broke at home.”

That stopped the sales pitch, and I know he was only trying to do his job. But then, he wanted to know whatever happened to the old one. So I had to tell him, albeit in an abbreviated version, how I came to break the beaker.

“The unfortunate thing,” I told the lad, “is that I have to buy a new set because none of the appliance outlets seem to sell replacement beakers on their shelves.”

“Sa office namin, Sir,” he volunteered helpfully, “p’wede kayo bumili ng glass beakers…”

“Oh, is that so?” My eyes lit up with interest. “Where would that be?” I was actually thinking of somewhere inside Rob.

“Sa Meycauayan, Sir! Pero maghihintay din lang kayo…”

And you wonder why some people get themselves killed…

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