The Girl at Starbucks That Hates You:
The slouchy guy who buys the small drip coffee and sits at a table with his laptop for four or five hours was in again today: it’s bad enough that he occupies prime space for so long over a single small purchase, but the guy is a total seat-smeller, it’s gross…
When a woman leaves the sitting area he ‘accidentally’ drops a pen by her vacated seat, then when he kneels down to retrieve the pen he takes a whiff of her chair. Like he thinks it isn’t obvious: dude, you dropped the same pen eight times today, you’re a freak…
Today was even worse than normal: a mother and her cute blonde young daughter drank their beverages — don’t get me going on giving children whipped-cream-topped caffeine, I Am Only Following Orders — and, when they left, the guy went and smelled the young girl’s seat. Eww…
Our Manager says there is nothing we can do, that it isn’t a real crime or anything. The situation totally sucks: the guy will make eye contact with you, and it is so obvious that he knows we know — it is like it is some power control thing that helps him get off, I think. Yeah, I have to put up with this shit for barely a buck over minimum wage…
Marcy was talking about filming him sniff seats with her phone and posting it on the internet, but I told her the idea made me nervous: if he found out he’d know it was us, and who knows what kind of sick crap the guy might be capable of — I don’t want some freak, like, killing my cat to get at me, you know…?
So I watch the guy sniff women’s seats and then tap away at his laptop: I’d hate to see the porn he must have on that thing, I bet it’s twisted shit, like serial-killer shit. Maybe this is how it feels to be one of those people who find out the guy they always saw turned out to be a creepy strangler or something: people would then ask you why you didn’t do anything, and it’s like — Hey, I just work at Starbucks, it’s not like I’m some fucking ninja…
Yeah, yeah: No Whip.
I am Laslo.
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