None.
This is a story about a woman recovering from a wee bit of jetlag. She felt great, really, even though she had been awake for a while in the dawning hours of the morn.
"I'll go downstairs, make myself a cuppa coffee, and go on with my day", she thought. And that is exactly what she proceeded to do.
The sound of her flip-flop slippers upon the steps caught the ear of her son, also wake. They said good morning and she continued her trek to the kitchen. She pulled out her trusty mug- a gift from a good friend- and filled it with water. She scooped the appropriate amount of coffee into her single serve filter and thought...."I have been away a while. I think I will just run the machine with water, first." A little cleaning for a fresh cup to start the day.
And then she saw an ant. Not at all surprising as they have been coming and going since Spring. The hot water continued to heat and our fair maiden saw another ant scurry upon the top of the Keurig. Hm. She guessed they were hiding in.....
OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!
As the steam erupted from the machine and the cup was being filled with hot water, the Keurig machine seemed to shimmy as the HOARDS AND HOARDS of ants streamed out of the crevices for their shit lives and ran amok upon the black, plastic top, making it near impossible to tell what was waves of heat from the machine, what was legs and thoraxes scurrying and tripping upon their comrades, and what was the shaking of her eyeballs at the disgust of taking it all in.
She yanked the whole of it from the outlet and threw it, gently, into the sink in order to deal with it. She shot that sucker with hot water and sprayed every nook she could with the water while trying not to break the machine. It was a pup of a purchase. 3 years young.
Bodies writhed to their deaths in the sink and our hero was joyous at the loss of them. Triumphant!
She placed the machine upon the counter again and went to dry the cord for safety when, like that famous scene in Fatal Attraction, the machine exploded into a new streaming sheet of ant bodies!
Like a chocolate fountain of pests!
Dip not thine pretzel nor marshmallow treat in this flow, dear reader!
A guttural sound erupted from her as she lifted the Coffee God, again, into the sink and did a dance of distress and disgust which included flapping hands and fiery facial expressions. Still too Scottish to throw the thing away, she worked and toiled. She sprayed and screamed warrior words!! until she was left panting and the machine left still.
At last, she placed the war torn scene upon the counter and sighed at the battle well fought.
But not won.
Upon the third explosion of exclamation points scurrying upon the lid and body of the machine, our betrayed and battered warrior threw up her hands in disgust and threw that shizzle in the tra-zizzle.
Bagged it.
Knotted it thrice.
Disposed of it in the garage trash can and slammed the door.
I ask of you now, any reader who should still remain, what machine should I purchase today? Recommendations, welcome.
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