Free Refills

He picked it up and looked at the bottom of it. Flat. Glass. Nothing really looked out of the ordinary about the mug.

He started laughing. Obviously, someone was playing a joke. He looked around the small room. There were only two other people in there at the time -- an old woman nibbling on a hunk of biscotti like some geriatric squirrel, and some kid sitting in the corner reading and playing with his dreadlocks. He looked up at the ceiling like he was expecting Alan Funt to pop out of the tiles. He didn't. Andy stopped laughing.

"I’m the hell out of here," he said aloud, grabbing his newspaper and folding it under his arm. He looked back at the mug. It sat in the middle of the table, steaming -- full. He paused for a moment, still staring down at the mug. He smiled. If this was for real, why was he so freaked out? The refills were free -- he always thought they should be anyway.

He sat back down and grabbed the mug, taking a big long drink of the coffee. It tasted fantastic -- just like the first cup. He polished it off and set the mug back down on the table, anxiously watching it. It didn't fill up. He looked over at the refill table, still halfway expecting to see Alan Funt over there. The girl with the pierced face stood behind the counter, checking the carafes to make sure they were full. He looked back to the mug quickly. It just sat there, getting cold and stubbornly staying empty -- just to piss him off. Then he remembered; both times he had emptied the mug, he had left his seat when it refilled itself -- except when he was reading the paper. That time, he just wasn't thinking about it.

"Great," he said aloud, staring at the empty mug. "I have the world's most interesting coffee mug, and the only way it works is if I don't think about it." The mug mocked him from the table. He decided to go to the bathroom.

He walked into the bathroom and looked around. Coffee mug. He looked at himself in the mirror. Mug. The toilet. Refill. The graffiti. He paused. There, on the wall, were some new chicken scratches. He hadn't seen anyone come into the bathroom, but then again, he hadn't been paying that close of attention. He walked over to the wall to get a closer look. His line was still there, but under it: "You have no idea... -- j.r." He laughed. It seemed appropriate, he thought.

The mug. He had forgotten the mug for a moment. He rushed out of the bathroom and back to his table.

The mug sat, just where he had left it, in the middle of the table -- full. He smiled. He tasted the coffee -- again, it was just like he liked it. This was the most amazing thing that had ever happened to him. He kicked back in his chair and smiled. As long as he could get his mind off the cup for just a moment, he could have free coffee for the rest of his life...

Andy stood up and put on his coat. He gulped down the rest of the coffee, grabbed the mug and walked over to the refill table, grinning like a demon.

"Excuse me," he called to the pierced girl.

"Oh, hey," she said, as though she just recognized him. "What can I do for you?"

"I want to buy this mug."

"You already paid for it. Refills are only a quarter.