Don’t you just want to slap the guy in front of you in line that demands an order rather than ordering politely. You’ve seen it, the bald chubby all over man throwing his, “customer is always right” bullshit empowerment on the coffee girl in the morning. Get me a ahhhhh a Large Coffee. Like he’s ordering her around, getting off on it, I keep waiting for the follow up “Bitch”, but it never comes, I mean why go half way you fucking goblin. And by the way, nobody thinks it’s cool to see you half scratch on your itchy asshole. I felt like nudging him and holding out my keys saying, “Here’s a car key, in case you want to operate on that dried up skidder you so hastily left behind on the last sit down”. The funny thing is that I know for a fact that that chunky bastard would have definitely played nice if the person behind the counter was Moby the 6 foot 17 inch Jamaican illegal. He’d be all full of white guy guilty nervousness. “Yes I’d like a large coffee please, I like your sock frisbee hat.”
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