Today I went to Starbucks and treated myself to a nice hot non-fat latte. As I waited patiently for my frothy beverage, a somewhat dumpy, grungy, not in the cool way, fellow stepped up to wait for his beverage as well along with a skinny, scantily clad ding dong of a girl. My assumption that she is a ding dong is not based on her very tight, skimpy outfit. My assumption is based on the conversation she was having which was whether or not she should be friends outside of work with her boss, who’s married and looks younger than he is, because he treats her like a friend at work not like an employee at work…blah, blah, blah, blah. Hmmmmm Dress more like a professional woman and less like a hooker and maybe he’ll figure it out. Problem solved.
So, as the barista called out “Grande, non-fat latte!” which I assumed was mine because that’s what I ordered and had been standing there for the longest time, the grungy gross guy grabbed it. Ok I figured, he must have ordered the same thing. I’ll just wait for the next one. As I waited I noticed that the grungy gross guy did not move away but rather stayed put and began to rub his hands all over the cup and the lid in such a thorough way that I assumed he was an oncologist searching for a tumor. It was strange. He even wiped the slight hint of froth peaking out of the sip hole.
Finally, the barista calls out another drink “Grande, triple latte.” Shoot, not my drink. I didn’t order an extra shot, but as it turns out grungy gross guy realizes that that is his drink and the one he has been fondling for 4 minutes is my drink.
So he says to me, “Oh, this must be yours and I’ve been holding it for 5 minutes.”
In response I said, “and rubbing your hands all over the lid.”
Put off by my response, grungy gross guy says snidely, “Do you want to trade covers?”
“Well yes I do.” And I quickly ripped both lids off and exchanged them.
As I left with my now less that steaming hot latte, I hear gross guy say to the Ding Dong, “can you believe she traded lids?””
Well, maybe if you showered once in a while, Captain Disgusto, and cleaned out that crumb trap you call a beard, then I would have gracefully accepted the handoff, but until personal hygiene because a priority with you, I’ll take a clean lid.”
Sometimes it’s hard to keep my thoughts from becoming my words.