SELF (to man at the counter): What can I get for you?
MAN: Calm down! I just walked in the damn door!
***
SELF (to dude and chick standing at counter, talking about someone named “Sharon”): What can I get for you?
DUDE: Um, are you in a big hurry or something?! We’re just talking about what we want to get!
(They continue to talk about poor “Sharon.” I walk away.)
***
MAN: I want hummus with my bagel. Do you have hummus?
SELF: Umm, no.
MAN: Well, sheesh! Do you have any peanut butter?
SELF: No, I’m sorry.
(We are not a grocery store, Slappy — but hey, guess what! — that big building across the street that says “R-A-L-P-H-S,” um, IS.)
***
HOMELESS MAN (staggering from the bathroom with a GIANT wet spot on his crotch): Hey! Hey! You’re stho preddy.
SELF: (shiver, shudder) Uhh, thanks.
***
The homeless dude with scuzzy blonde dreadlocks, hunched at a table on the patio, muttering to his friend — a good-sized doll head with blonde hair and black lips and a big black shiner. He was later asked to leave because he was scaring other customers.
Too bad he took the doll head. I kinda wanted it.
Okay…when did this whole social contract thing break?
If I walked into a coffeeshop, didn’t know what I wanted yet, and the barista asked me if she could help me, I’d smile sort of apologetically and say, “Sorry…haven’t made my mind up yet.” And I’d stay out of the way of the line, let the customers who KNOW what they want go first.
I probably would have ignored the “Calm down!” guy once he started trying to place his order. That’s just unfair of him to act that way.
Oh boy how I miss retail…not!
Er… did scuzzy dreadlock guy give a shiner to a doll’s head? He’s a mannequin abuser? That’s… gosh.