Tuesday, June 8, 2004

The office purchased a brand new water cooler, gentle reader, and the device instantly commands wonderment and, in my befuddled case, absolute confusion. Up until now, I’ve whiled away countless hours with bottle after bottle of spring water from the company fridge, so it goes without saying that I approached the cooler with high hopes. I mean, it’s like we captured the Kool-Aid Man and have him on tap, just without the Red #40.

It would surprise you to learn, then, that the beverage generously offered by the machine tastes nothing like spring water. It tastes more like a spring water factory charred to the ground. That’s the Culligan Man for you, and that reminds me of the time the Culligan Man–or one of his uniformed henchmen, to be accurate–cut me off on Central Street on a warm summer’s day.

That brings me back to my main question. How on earth do you take the burning out of spring water? Do I have to break in the cooler, put it through its paces? Who can answer these questions? Perhaps it’s time to go to business school.