The members of the East Podunk City Council filed into the meeting room, and immediately looked around for the coffee and doughnuts. It didn’t take long for panic to set in.
“Hey, who was supposed to pick up the coffee?” Barry Miller asked. “I got it last time.”
“I got it two times ago,” Deidre Russo said, taking her usual seat behind the table where the Council members sat.
The rest of the group gathered around the empty table where the refreshments were usually laid out to help everyone get through the Tuesday evening meeting. There was nothing on the table. No coffee. No doughnuts. No nothing.
“The mayor is not going to like this,” Charlie Ericsson said. “That man drinks more coffee than anyone I know.”
“Hell, forget the mayor, I don’t like this,” Miller said. “We can’t have a Council meeting without coffee.”
“Maybe there’s been some kind of budget cut or something,” Ericsson said.
“Believe me, the coffee is the last thing to get cut. Library funding, essential services, then maybe the coffee,” Russo said, getting big laughs from the others.
Just then the door to the room opened and a burly man in an ill-fitting brown suit came in. He pushed a small cart on wheels, its top tray filled with three large, cardboard containers. Each one had the large lettering and logo of Joe’s Java House on the side. Three flat boxes of doughnuts sat on the second level of the cart.
“Ah, we should have known,” Miller said. “Herb was on coffee duty tonight. Nice of you to show up.”
Herb Strait set up the coffee and doughnuts on the table and offered the usual excuses for his lateness. “All kinds of traffic on Elm tonight.”
“Of course,” Russo said, getting up from her seat and joining the others around the table with the refreshments.
There were chuckles and small talk as the Council members went about the business of making their coffee. Miller raised the cup to his lips just as the door to the room swung open and Mayor Stanley Piker stormed.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Piker said. “Coffee down, everyone. That goes for you too Miller.”
The Council members traded glances, looking at each other, and then the mayor.
“Is…uh, is there something wrong,” Russo asked.
“Damn straight there’s something wrong,” Piker said, pointing at the coffee boxes. “That coffee is from Joe’s Java House.”
“Uh, yeah, that’s like where we’ve been buying if for, oh I don’t know, maybe forever,” Ericsson said.
“Yeah, well not anymore,” Piker said. He snapped his fingers and an aide dashed to him. “Memo,” he said.
The aide leafed through a folder and took out sheets of paper and began passing them out to the council members.
“No more coffee from Joe’s Java House. No more doughnuts from Joe’s. No water, no soda, no nothing,” Piker said.
“Why?” Miller asked.
“Read the memo,” the mayor said, as the aide passed them out.
Miller read through the memo, not quite believing what he was reading.
Effective immediately the Town of East Podunk will cease purchasing coffee, doughnuts and any and all other items from the establishment Joe’s Java House at 1194 Elm Street, East Podunk. The decision is based on recent revelations that Joe’s founder, Mr. Jose Martinez, has become involved in, and is an outspoken proponent of immigration reform. Under no circumstances will city monies be used to support a political campaign of this nature. For more on Martinez’s radical activism, please see the most recent issue of the magazine, East Podunk Life.”
Miller looked up from the memo and glanced at his colleagues. They were still reading, all had looks of puzzlement and disbelief on their faces. Russo was the next one to look up. She looked at Miller and shook her head.
“This some kind of executive decision, Mr. Mayor?” Miler asked.
“Yup,” Piker said. “I will not have the hard earned tax dollars of East Podunk residents being spent to enrich the business of an individual waging a political campaign, and a radical one at that.”
“You’re kidding me?” Strait said, flipping the memo on the table. “Jose works his tail off. He’s honest and fair, and people love working for him, and you’re going to stiff him?”
“This isn’t personal,” Piker aid.
“Yes it is,” Strait said.
“Look, first and foremost, I am a patriot,” Piker said. “Even before I’m mayor.”
“Actually, I think you’re an idiot before any of those,” Russo said, tossing the memo on the table and taking her seat behind her nameplate at the meeting table.
“I don’t mind you disagreeing with me,” Piker said, “but please at least try to maintain a respectful tone.”
“This is the dumbest idea I’ve heard in a long time,” Miller said.
“Again, respectful tone,” Piker said.
“No,” Miller said. “Only people with brains get my respect.”
The mayor walked around the table and took his seat at the center, behind the nameplate that read, Hon. Mayor Stanley P. Piker. “I didn’t expect to win any popularity contests with this,” he said. “I know how popular Jose is. But we simply cannot have city money funding an individual waging a political campaign. It opens us up to all kinds of troubles.”
“Guess that means no more paving contracts for your brother-in-law’s company,” Miller said. “He has NRA stickers all over his truck.”
“Hold on now,” Piker said. “That’s different.”
“Really,” Russo said, “tell us how.”
“Jerry comes in with the low bid each and every time we put a contract out there,” Piker said.
“And does crappy work in return for the low bid,” Miller said.
“What a bargain,” Strait said.
Piker waved a hand, trying to slow the barrage of criticisms.
“Everyone just cool off, okay?” he said.
Miller went over to the coffee table and fixed himself a cup of coffee. He raised it toward the mayor and said, “Cheers.”
“Put that down,” Piker said.
“I’ll put it down when your brother-in-law takes his stickers off his truck,” Miller said.
“Yeah, he’s waging a political campaign,” Russo said, getting up and fixing herself a cup of coffee.
One by one the other Council members grabbed cups of coffee and doughnuts. Piker shook his head, walked to the table and got himself a cup.
“Look at the mayor, breaking his own ban,” Russo said.
“You kidding me,” Piker said. “It’s a lot easier than getting Jerry to get rid of his stickers.”