It started off as any normal day. People wake up, make coffee, leave for work, pick up coffee along the way, get to work, punch in, drink more coffee, and push paper until lunch time.
Rydell always hated coffee. He could never stand the stuff. He couldn’t comprehend the language and culture of coffee. When it takes longer to pronounce the title of your drink than it does to drink it, it’s time to find a new beverage of choice.
Rydell had problems at work because of his lack of a coffee addiction. Rydell and his mugs of hot chocolate were the minority at Paragon Advertising. He was never invited to lunch with the boss, or welcomed into the group of guys who hang around the coffee machine telling the usual office stories. The girls never asked him if he wanted to get a cup of coffee after work. Usual girls, usual stories, usual coffee, usual people. Rydell hated the usual with a passion.
That was why Rydell got into advertising. It didn’t start that way. He majored in sociology to further his understanding of the usual. He knew the usual better than most people, and that’s why he got into advertising. People don’t respond to stirring speeches or cold hard facts anymore. People respond to commercials. Loud, flashy, substance-devoid commercials. It was the classic work-against-from-within ploy. Usual, sure, but only as long as he had to.
Rydell thought he understood the usual. That’s when the logic behind the usual fell apart.
Nobody noticed the purple man. At least, he was sort of a man. He wore the same tie and khakis as everyone else, except that he was a deep shade of violet. Rydell watched the man cross the floor and start the coffee machine. Nobody noticed him, said anything to him, and nobody thanked him for making coffee. People stepped around him like a box, and acknowledged his existence as such. The purple man made the coffee, turned around, and left without a word, just a small smirk on his face.
Ten minutes later, the usual people gathered around the coffee machine. As usual.
