Coffee Ant

By Jack L. Bryson

Phil, like many homeowners, has an ant problem. But Raid and the usual remedies won't make this ant problem go away. The ants, meanwhile, have a coffee addiction and need a supplier. Will Phil help the ants get their fix? What will happen if he doesn't? Find out in Coffee Ant. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jack L Bryson
• Release date: Feb 24, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224249756

Jack L. Bryson

Jack L. Bryson lives in Mountain View CA with his girlfriend. He's a full-time emotioinal support human for a cat, and in his spare time, he dabbles in graphic and web design. 

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Coffee Ant

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Extortion: noun. The practice of obtaining something, especially coffee, through force or threats.  

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Although Phillip Walker felt grumpy, having awakened on the wrong side of the bed, he had an encounter with ants, which dwarfed his grumpiness that day and put things into perspective.

Philip, or Phil as his wife called him, sat up in bed and grimaced as he rubbed his thinning hair. His destiny to become a bald man was just another way the universe shafted him. As Phil swung his legs around and put two feet on the floor his stomach percolated, signaling he needed to make a trip to the bathroom and take care of business. He struggled on the toilet but after nearly ten minutes he was done. Relieved, he wiped, got up, flushed, half washed his hands, and then made his way to the kitchen. He intended to begin his morning ritual with coffee and a chip on his shoulder, but it occurred to him that coffee might be tickling his mild irritable bowel syndrome. He decided to cut back to two cups a day, but there was no way in hell he was going to let the universe take away his coffee completely. Being a stubborn asshole, Phil would wait until he was bleeding from his rectum before giving up his narcotic completely.

After Phil retrieved the French roast from his freezer, he stuffed a tan coffee filter in the basket and eyeballed the amount of coffee he scooped out with a metal spoon. His wife, Tracy, used the small brown measuring cup with the long, slender handle Phil could never find (Tracy always made a better brew). If she doesn’t like this pot, she can wait till I finish this one and then make her own, Phil grumbled.

He failed to notice a few spilled grounds on the kitchen counter as he made his way back to the freezer with the French Roast. When he returned he spotted a few ants probing the coffee grounds. That’s stupid, Phil thought. Ants don’t like coffee, stupid ants. He squished a couple of them with his thumb before taking the coffee pot to the sink and filling it with water. When he turned around there were a couple more ants on the counter. Phil shook his head and started brewing his pot. He got a mug and poured himself a cup of coffee, taking the time to accidentally spill some scalding coffee on the new ants. 

Phil, you’re making a mess, Tracy said as she came into the kitchen. Startled, Phil nearly dropped his coffee and cursed, God damn it. Ignoring Phil’s outburst, Tracy snagged the kitchen towel off the refrigerator handle and wiped up the dead ants, burning ants, coffee grounds and coffee. She turned around sharply and marched down the hallway with the soiled towel to the washing machine/dryer alcove. She lifted the lid to the washing machine part way and tossed in the towel. Hating all things that are slammed, Tracy let the lid down gently before turning around and making her way back to the kitchen.

She didn’t bother getting dressed that morning, wearing only a gray tank-top that exposed her mid-riff and a pair of pink panties. She hoped to lure Phil back to bed but seeing he was in a mood, she wondered if he’d start a fight with her or be a passive-aggressive twat. When Tracy entered the kitchen she saw Phil seated at the dining room table, scrolling through his tablet. She poured herself a cup of coffee and asked, Did you use the brown measuring cup? No answer. Passive-aggressive twat it is.

Tracy took a seat next to Phil. Undeterred by his mood, she asked, Can I make you breakfast?

I’m good, Phil said, lifting his mug up to indicate his coffee was sufficient. Tracy looked around, thinking of something to say. Nothing came to mind, so she sipped her coffee and winced at the extra bitterness- Phil used too many grounds. He raised an eyebrow, daring Tracy to criticize the brew, but she didn’t want a fight so she didn’t say anything.

After a few minutes of silence and growing bored watching Phil read his tablet, Tracy started to play a little footsy with him under table as she asked, Would you like to come back to bed with me?

No, I’d like to finish my coffee, Phil replied as he withdrew his foot from hers.

Tracy calmly stood up from the table and said, Well, that’s too bad. I’m going to the bedroom and masturbate if you change your mind. Phil raised an eyebrow and despite himself his eyes followed Tracy as she left the table. He mentally cursed himself and said, What the hell is wrong with you