I gave someone WATER. Just water. He CRIED about his dead MOTHER. Again..

[0:00]The new hire asked why everyone warns her about accepting drinks from me. Jennifer, fresh out of college, first day at the marketing firm. She comes to my desk. Hi, I'm Jennifer. Everyone keeps telling me not to accept drinks from you. I sigh. This again. It's not what you think. So you don't drug people? No. God number. It's complicated. She sits down. I have time. Four years ago, office Christmas party. I'm bartending because I took a mixology class, making everyone fancy cocktails. Sharon asks for a martini. I make it. She takes one sip, starts crying. This tastes exactly like my ex-husband made them. Runs to the bathroom, won't come back. Party ruined. Three years ago, summer picnic. I bring homemade lemonade, fresh squeezed, mint, the works. Brad drinks it, immediately breaks out in hives. I'm allergic to mint. You didn't say that. You didn't ask. Epi pen, ambulance, lawsuit threats. I now have to fill out allergen forms for all food. Two years ago, coffee run. I bring Lisa her usual, except it's not her usual. It's her ex-boyfriend's usual. I mixed up the names in my phone. She drinks it, realizes it's his exact order. Have you been talking to Derek? No, just mixed up the order. This is exactly how he takes it. Extra shot, oat milk, half pump vanilla. Coincidence? There are no coincidences. She reports me to HR for emotional manipulation via coffee. Last year, water. I give Marcus water from the cooler. He drinks it. Why does this taste like cucumber? It doesn't. It does. My mother used to put cucumber in water. She's dead. Why would you do this? It was the cup. Someone else had cucumber water in it earlier. Didn't rinse properly. Marcus convinced I'm psychologically torturing him, files complaint. Six months ago, Jenny's birthday. I buy champagne for the team. Good stuff. Pop it open. It explodes all over Jenny, ruins her dress, her new dress for her date that night with the CEO's son. She misses the date. They never reschedule. She blames me for ruining her chance at love and corporate advancement. So you see, I tell Jennifer, it's not that I'm dangerous. I'm cursed. Jennifer laughs. That's ridiculous. I'll take a coffee. I don't think. Come on, prove the curse isn't real. I reluctantly get her coffee. Black, simple. Nothing can go wrong. She takes a sip. Her eyes widen. This is the exact coffee my dad made me before he told me about the divorce. She starts crying. The entire office turns to stare. Someone shouts, You gave Jennifer a drink. Jennifer's sobbing. It even has the same slightly burnt taste. How did you know? I didn't know. HR calls me in again. We need to discuss the Jennifer incident. I made her coffee. She's been crying for an hour. It's not my fault her dad makes burnt coffee. You have a pattern. They show me a file. It's thick. Every drink incident documented. There's a chart, types of drinks, types of reactions. Someone's done statistical analysis. According to this, you have a 73% rate of causing emotional distress via beverages. That can't be real. Jake in accounting ran the numbers. It's statistically impossible to be coincidence. They make me sign something. I'm banned from providing any liquids to anyone. There's a sign at my desk. Do not accept beverages from this employee. New hires get warned in orientation. There's a slide about me. New people think it's a joke until someone tells them the stories. The Brad incident, the Marcus meltdown, the Jenny explosion. I become office legend. Plot twist, company holiday party last week. New CEO doesn't know about my curse. Asks me to help serve drinks. I decline, he insists. Don't be ridiculous. Pour some wine. I pour him wine. He takes a sip, goes pale. This is the exact wine from my wedding. That's nice. My first wedding, to my ex-wife, who's currently suing me for half the company. His lawyer at the party tastes it. This is that wine. 1997 Chateau Margaux. How did you know? I grabbed a random bottle. The CEO stares at me. You're the beverage curse employee. It's not a curse. You just accidentally served me psychological warfare wine. All wine is psychological warfare at office parties. He promotes me. Not for the wine. Turns out I'm good at marketing. But now I have my own office with a mini fridge that locks, with a sign, no sharing. Jennifer still works here. We're friends now. She brings her own drinks. Everyone does around me. I'm the only person in history with a beverage restraining order from my own workplace. But I got promoted, so who's cursed now? Five stars for career advancement, zero stars for drink service, infinite stars for the statistical impossibility of my beverage curse.