The Great Milk Mystery.

There are, at last count,50+ people who work for my company.  (We have another two in Australia, which I will keep separate for this story’s purpose.)

For a time we were a Milk War.

For those not familiar with Milk War let me fill you in on milk and England.  In England milk comes delivered in two ways: Via a grocer or via a delivery system.  There is a third alternative (or subversive) way known as UHT milk.  This is a form of liquid with milk-like qualities but in no way shape or form should ever be actually consumed.  In short, the purpose of UHT milk is to sit in its respective box and prop doors open, serve as a paper weight, or construct houses from.  Open the UHT milk and you enter Milk War.

Milk War generally rages between the tea and coffee drinkers and management, who draw the line and the number of milk bottles (or pints) we are allowed delivered to us per day.  Various losses are taken when someone not in management gives up and goes to the grocer to buy a small pint or half pint of milk.  When the eventual battle enters into UHT territory, and involves one or more management members, a victory is claimed and the milk delivery tally goes up.  The war ends when people stop notifying each other of having to go to the store to buy actual milk and/or the internal wiki page that this war is dedicated to claims a form of victory.

Personally I have survived one Milk War.  History does not tally the countless others that have spanned the time of company operation.

Yet, something new and strange has happened.  Rather than diminishing amounts which begin the riots that eventually lead to full-scale Milk War, we’ve been accumulating.

At first, I attributed it to Lent and the loss of a regular manager.  This combined, I felt, would keep milk levels within our refrigeration system high and would help stave the eventual downfall of supply once Lent eased up.

I was wrong.  It was multiplying.

At first I attributed this, like my current bike collection, to subversive mating habits amongst the wild milk pint bottles of Oxfordshire.  I called and eased back the order. I even asked if anyone in the area just might so happen to be ordering milk from the same place.

But today, instead of two bottles, there stood five.

We’re not being charged extra, we’re confirmed as only having two pints for delivery.  And yet, here and now in this time and space, we have five bottles of milk.  These five bottles joined together with another seven already living in the habitat now called the Milkerator, as nothing else can fit in there.

So now I’ve called and stopped the order until next Tuesday.  It is my thought that if something shows up tomorrow we’re potentially receiving milk that has slipped through the hands of some unsuspecting company.  There is always the thought of the English Milk Fairy, but I’ve heard her calcium tales are only myth.

Stay tuned, dear readers, stay tuned…