Big mistake.
The lid wouldn't fit. No, they didn't have any other lids. The truck hadn't arrived with them.
I wondered for a moment whether there really was a truck driving round the country with plastic lids for coffee cups or was it some service station scheme to cut costs.
Then I remembered I'd been into this same place some time before and the exact same thing had occurred. Hmmm.
For now further investigation wasn't possible as time was pressing so I took a gamble and went with the "un-lidded" beverage.
I know what you're thinking. Silly, right? I know. It's just become such a habit it ruins my day if I don't get my fix. God forbid they ever put the price of coffee up like they have cigarettes. I mean it's not like too much caffeine is going to do you any harm. Is it?
So. Obviously I needed to knock back a few gulps before placing the cup in the oddly-sized holder provided by the manufacturer of my vehicle.
This went by without a hitch but the vanload of young dudes at the servo heading off on an early morning excursion, presumably to find surf and chicks, got a good view of some fine grimacing and wincing as the caffeine infused liquid slid on its merry way.
Finally I was on my way, confident I could control the untamed coffee in the cup. In the holder. In the car.
I'm on back road to Tauranga. Up and down hills, round corners, over bridges, down into gorges, up the other side. It was a dream ride.
So good in fact apart from one or two minor gulps I forgot all about my coffee and as I parked on the hill beside regional HQ it was basically the last thing on my mind.
That changed however as I drew to a halt, perhaps a little bit too fast, and it became the first thing on my mind.
Or rather the first thing on my trousers.
And, as it does (and you guys will know exactly what I mean), the spillage was strategically located in an area which suggests you have had, er, an "accident".
I have to admit dear reader I failed to keep the odd expletive inside the confines of my mind as my fill-in position requires.
Luckily I had an old pair of golfing shorts in the boot of the Pagemobile and they quickly came to the rescue. My appearance was less than satisfactory though. I figured if I stayed seated all day with my legs basically under my desk nobody would be any the wiser to my scruffy ensemble.
The plan lasted about 10 minutes until a colleague insisted we grab a coffee from the kitchen.
Sigh. Oh well. I got it over with, walked to the kitchen and nobody said anything. Perhaps they thought it was normal Rotorua attire. I mean some of us wear pyjama bottoms to go to the supermarket don't we?
Anyway, the person who orders the milk at regional HQ was still on holiday so it had to be black. I didn't get a decent coffee all day.
And it was with some trepidation later, at the start of my return drive, I pulled into the same servo chain and wondered whether I should get a coffee.
The bloke behind the counter couldn't have been more helpful and looked quite hurt, much to my embarrassment, when I sarcastically said: "I suppose you haven't got any lids."
He did. Apparently the truck had arrived with them earlier that day.
Presumably it was driven by a happy chap in a singlet and shorts drinking a quality coffee in a cup with a firm-fitting lid that fits in a perfectly sized cup holder.
I wonder if they've got any jobs going?
-Kevin Page has been a journalist for 34 years. He hasn't made enough money to retire after writing about serious topics for years so he's giving humour a shot instead.
