I Hate Me, part 377,194
I haven’t written in a while. One of the other managers at work went on vacation the exact second that the air conditioner decided to completely take a shit. It’s an old AC unit, I think it involved blocks of ice and poisonous gas filtered thru bamboo fans. So the upshot is that there is no AC at work for the foreseeable future, and I’m cranky (er) than usual, boo fucking hoo.
A long time ago a bunch of friends and I would go to a local diner and a couple of times I ordered a vanilla coke. The waitress who was very nice thought that I would always want a vanilla coke, I didn’t. So every time we went there she would bring a vanilla coke and coffee’s for everyone else before we ordered. I started to hate vanilla coke but was too sheepish to ever correct her and we eventually started going to another diner. Yes, I have many problems with my social skills. Which leads me to a couple of days ago, I went to Starbucks to get my morning coffee. Since there wasn’t AC at work I wanted to get a large iced coffee. There was a barista who works mornings and for some reason she thinks that I always want a double espresso or “doppio” as it’s known in the rich parts of coffee town. I ordered it a few times before but not enough to have it as my regular drink. So I’m at the end of the line. Staring off into space, soaking in the AC and bitter that I wasn’t going to have any at work. The woman got my attention and said something I couldn’t hear, I nodded thinking it was a morning greeting. It wasn’t, the nod meant I had agreed to a doppio and……..
You know, it’s impossible to tell but I rewrote this a a couple of times and it actually seemed like I had story. It’s pretty thin but none the less it was a story but as I’m reading this out loud to my dog it sounds pretty disjointed and for something under 400 words overly long. Well, there you have it……….Drive carefully, tip your bartender.