This was just today.
Me: Would you like room for cream in your coffee?
Man, 60-70-ish: DON’T ASK ME THAT!! THIS ISN’T STARBUCKS!! YOU DON’T ASK THAT IF YOU WORK HERE!! WHY WOULD YOU ASK ME THAT?? JUST DON’T DO IT!! DON’T DO IT!! DON’T EVER ASK THAT!!
Old Man continues to rave like this as I pour his coffee, my back to him. Then I turn to him with his damn cuppa coffee with NO ROOM — NO ROOM — FOR CREAM. It is only some mysterious act of God — like when He held back the Red Sea or something — that keeps me from throwing it on him, screeching, “ROOM FOR CREAM WITH THAT, SLAPPY??!!”
Instead ….
Me: Sir, I’ve been here two weeks. I’m just the new girl. Cut. Me. Some. Slack.
On second thought, not sure I want to venture in there. How about we just go out somewhere for a cup a joe? Starbucks?
Hahahaha!
“Redrum! REDRUMMMM!!!”
WOW. Someone forgot their meds today, sir?
Geesh, sounds like he needed every drop of his precious coffee.
HA HA HA Slappy. That’s Capt. Slappy to you.
Nurse Ratchet, we’re having a problem here.
You’re a better person than I. I wouldn’t have handled that very well.
“slappy” hahahahahahahahahahaha
Stars in your crown, girl, stars in your crown.