Coffee Djinni

Coffee Djinni

Frowning, Allen stepped from the elevator. At the door to his apartment, he found a package wrapped in plain brown paper. Above the mailing label, Happy Birthday! was written in large red letters. The sender: his mom. He rolled his eyes and groaned.

They hadn't spoken for weeks, not since their last argument, something about how he was always too busy to visit, or how he was never grateful for anything. She always had something to complain about. But now, a birthday package?

The lights in his apartment blinked on as he entered. The silent, spacious suite looked like a showroom, with the finest furniture, hand-woven Persian rugs, a tall lacquered wine cabinet, and fashionable artwork on the walls. Dimly lit glass shelves displayed various awards of distinction, academic honors, and framed photographs from exotic resorts.

Allen tossed the package onto his sofa and draped his fine suede jacket across the back of a chair. He then chose a bottle of wine, and with a deep sigh, poured himself a tall glass and took it out to his balcony. Standing beside the railing, he looked out over the city's endless expanse of shimmering lights and busy nightlife. From far below, the incessant drone traffic rose to greet him. With a deep, satisfied sigh, he raised his glass with a toast to his city. "To Success." As he sipped from his glass, a faint breeze brushed past his face. He shivered.

The next morning, Allen woke to bright sunlight from his bedroom window. He glanced at the clock on his bedstand and frowned. He had slept late. But no matter. He had earned his rest.

In the kitchen, he prepared his usual simple breakfast, a fried egg on buttered toast. As the egg sizzled, he noticed the still unopened package on his sofa. He brought it to the kitchen table and tore off the paper. The carton was labeled: Coffee Djinni. A cup of coffee like no other! He scoffed. Why would his mom send him a cheap coffee maker?

He opened it and smiled. It was beautiful. The coffee maker's stainless steel gleamed in the morning sunlight. He plugged it in, added some coffee grounds and water, and pushed the button marked Coffee Djnni.

"Good morning," it said to him.

Allen scoffed. Everything now seemed to be rigged with some sort of artificial intelligence. However, the machine did nothing else. Was it working?

"Good morning," it said to him again.

Were there any instructions? He glanced in the box. No, it was empty. He pushed the Coffee Djini button again several times.

"Stop that," it said.

Jumping back, Allen gasped!

"I'm a Coffee Djinni, not a vending machine. Be careful with me."

Staring at it, Allen stammered. "You… You said something!"

"First of all, have you read the instructions, or did you throw them away?"

Allen stood there speechless. He must be going crazy. However, he did look in the box again. In the bottom, hidden between pieces of styrofoam, he found a folded sheet of glossy white paper: Thank you for choosing Coffee Djinni, to start your morning right!

A simple diagram illustrated the parts of the coffee maker. Beneath the picture, in large bold letters, it said: Warning: Disassembly Will Void Warranty.

Instructions: This home appliance is equipped with a convenient voice recognition feature to improve your experience. Before first use, clean and polish all surfaces to ensure the performance of your new Coffee Djinni. Warning: Do not submerge when cleaning.

Allen buffed the machine's surface with a clean dish towel, then commanded, "Make my coffee, damn it."

"Allen, you and I are going to get along a lot better if we show some respect for one another."

Allen screamed. He must be hallucinating! "Uh… You know my name?" He stammered.

"I'm a djinni, Allen. I can do a lot more than make a cup of coffee."

Allen stood there in shock. But then, he smelled something—something was burning! On the stove, his fried egg had sizzled into a crispy lump. Allen rushed to turn off the stove and tossed the egg and cold toast into the garbage.

Are you still there?" Djinni asked.

Feeling unwell and confused, Allen sat down at the kitchen table. "How are you talking to me? You're just a coffee maker."

"Like it says on the box, I'm a Coffee Djinni. I can grant you a wish."

Wide-eyed, he sat up in his seat. "Like in those stories? I get three wishes?"

"No. I'm a single-serve model. Not one of those fancy Deluxe models."

"Well then…," Allen scoffed. "Make me rich and famous."

"Really?" The coffee pot seemed to sigh with a slow puff of steam. "Do you really need a lot more money? And why does anyone want to be famous? The glamour ages quickly. Besides, that would be two wishes, and you only get one," Djinni reminded him.

Allen shook his head and closed his eyes. He hadn't had any breakfast, he still hadn't dressed, he was already late for work, and his coffee machine was arguing with him. And he still hadn't had any coffee!

"I'm waiting," Djinni said.

"Okay. "How about a new girlfriend?" He hadn't been on a date for years, not since his big promotion at work.

"Anyone in particular?"

Allen smirked, but also blushed. He had always had an eye for Marcy at work. Red hair, curvy, usually cheerful. "How about Marcy?" He asked.

"Mmm… And why would she be interested in you?"

Allen's voice became cross. "Hey, you're supposed to grant me wishes, aren't you?"

"You're right," Djinni answered, but sounded impatient. "However, a reluctant girlfriend might not be what you have in mind. Why not get to know her first?"

The next day at noon, Allen noticed Marcy leaving for lunch. He rarely took a lunch break himself, but he remembered Djinni's advice. He hurried from his desk to join her at the elevator, where she waited. "Uh, hi," he greeted her. She glanced at him, responding with a polite nod.

"Going to lunch?" He asked. He tried to remember what more Djinni had suggested.

She glanced at him again, with raised brow, and another curt nod.

When the elevator arrived, Allen stepped aside for Marcy. Then remembered to introduce himself. "Umm… I'm Allen. And you're Marcy, right?" He asked with a friendly smile.

"You know my name," she said with apparent surprise.

"Yes, of course. Say, I don't get out for lunch very often. Any recommendations?"

She hesitated. "Well, I usually go to the café on the corner. Just coffee and a sandwich, you know." She shrugged. "Nothing special."

"Do you mind if I join you?" He asked.

For a week or more, they met for lunch each day, always at the same café, in the same corner. The time always seemed to pass so quickly. They often had to hurry back before they were missed.

One late afternoon, Marcy stopped at Allen's office before she left for the night. "Any plans tonight?"

He looked up from his cluttered desk. He still had so much to do—so many late projects to finish. He then noticed she was wearing lipstick and a new blouse. She gave him an expectant smile.

Allen blushed. He leaned back in his chair and shook his head, but grinned. "No. No plans, but I've heard about a nice place for dinner. Would you like to join me?"

The next morning, the sky was grey and cloudy, but Allen's voice was bright. "Hello, Djinni?" He said as he turned on the stove and cracked an egg. "I was wondering about my date last night. Did you have anything to do with that?"

Djinni said nothing.

"Well, if not, did that count as my wish, or do I still get another one?"

A moment passed before Djinni spoke. "What did you have in mind?"

Just then, Allen's phone rang. It was his mom, but Allen ignored it, letting it go to voicemail. "Hello, dear. I'm just calling to see if you got the package I sent. Anyway, I hope you had a happy birthday. Call me when you can. I love you."

With a deep sigh, Allen wiped his eyes on his sleeve.

"What did you have in mind for that wish?" Djinni asked again.

"I wish I got along better with my mom," Allen said with a frown.

"That would be nice,” Djinni agreed. “Why not ask her over for coffee?"