I live in a wonderful small town. It has one independent coffee shop, for which I am grateful because most of our town is choppers and mullets – we’re basically poor white trash, and before you get in a twist, I am in no way differentiating myself.
The coffee place gives you a nice discount if you bring your own cup, so I do (see above), and if it’s quiet, I stay there to drink it, but TODAY… I was behind two women who hadn’t seen each other in some time (long enough for one of them to bring a card and a cheerful bouquet, you know, when you want to embarrass the hell out of a so-called friend).
They were both in activewear (check out the video, if you don’t know what I’m talking about, but you DO) and they both had GIANT bags. They weren’t even hand bags, they were tents with handles. The bags were under their arms, jutting out in back, and they kept stepping back from the counter, and almost bludgeoning me with their GIANT-ASS bags. That was pretty annoying.
One of the employees started making sympathetic and then goofy faces at me at their expense, so I was NOT imagining their annoyingness.
Our beloved coffee shop in PWT’s-ville used to have regular and decaf, but now, in keeping with the times, they have regular, dark roast, and decaf.
This was TOO MUCH for these women, who wanted to know the backstory of both regular coffees, and impart what they knew about the chemical processing of decaf. (Causes cancer, you say? Give me the whole pot!)
Once they heard the story of the coffees – “I vas born in var-torn Berlin…” – they did NOT order coffee. NO! They wanted to hear all about the TEAS. What is this one? Optimus Prime?! OMG! Razzle-Dazzle?!?!?! Oh, gosh, IDK, what do you recommend?
I recommend you go ahead and order before I break my foot off in your ass.
At last, the woman behind the counter said, “Why don’t you give it some thought and come back when you decide,” which made them decide IMMEDIATELY on two iced mochas.
They went looking for a table (out of the three that are in the tiny coffee place), and the one holding the flowers dropped the flowers… (passive-aggressive!) They both let up a wail that disturbed the one pot-bellied guy who sits there all day enough for him to flap his newspaper.
The server not making their mochas (my sister in impatience) came out with a broom and dustpan and assured them there was no damage, the place could take worse, and I think I even heard her say, “Calm down.” It was like having Elf and Ed Grimley together at last.
Once my coffee was ready (took 2 seconds!) in my reusable cup, I got the hell out of there, but now I wish I had stayed and collected more material. It’s episodes like these that feed my morbid creative instinct. Alas. Please comment if you have a snarky story to share. I’m a snark-fueled vehicle.