The self-serve coffee station

A cup is drawn from a tall spring loaded tube, one at a time, with a small mechanical percussion as the stack settles down onto the next cup in line; a lid is drawn from a similar tube nearby, in a size that matches the cup only sometimes. Between them sit two or three airpots, pump action, each labeled by a strip of masking tape that identifies its contents more reliably than its handle color does, since the handle colors are rarely consistent between visits and never consistent between stations. Pressing the pump produces a measured pour, followed reliably by three drops that land on the counter rather than the cup, a shortfall built into the mechanism rather than the operator. The station's ecosystem includes creamer in individual tubs, sugar in a bin with a scoop chained to prevent theft of the scoop specifically, and a stirrer supply that runs out roughly twice as often as anything else on the counter, for reasons the station has never investigated. Coffee held in an airpot for four hours does not improve, and few stations pretend otherwise; the second airpot, marked decaf, is refilled less often and trusted less, an arrangement that says something about decaf drinkers without stating it directly. The whole apparatus asks a dollar and some change, collected on the honor system at some stations and mandatory at the register in others, and functions, on balance, adequately.

Doreen Fitch