When you are on stage, you should perform, thats all I’m saying.
It is the obligation of the actor, performer, singer, animal in a cage, whoever, to put on a goddam show.
And they are just sitting there.
Sitting at a table in the front of my favorite Starbucks.
For those new to the blog, I have written tens of thousands of words about the most dysfunctional couple I have ever met.
These posts are the most viewed, most loved, and by me, the most obsessed about subjects on the site.
Hell, they are why I started this site.
Here is the past saga’s. https://bittermac.com/in-the-beginning-evil-couple-part-1/
Good reading if you like uncomfortable public situations.
Anyway, why the hell bring it all up right now?
Despite the fact that I love these two?
They are sitting there, doing nothing.
Dance Monkey, dance.
Oh, well. There are worse things in the world than waiting to be amused by evil people.
I am a patient man.
Plus, I am in line and have nothing else to do.
Take it where you can get it.
And the thing I don’t get is, there is a serious environment for absolute mayhem from these two, and they are oblivious.
First off, they are in the front of Starbucks, a location that Mrs. has practically shit herself over in the past.
They are sitting in front of the huge bay window that looks out on the street, and on the brick sitting porch.
There is currently a homeless guy and his dog sitting there.
The dog is vigorously licking his own nuts.
And the homeless owner is fluffing his shirt out around his armpits.
And that has got to be some sort of vile stench.
Yet, the evil couple sit there, doing nothing.
But I am not letting down my guard, I have been sucker punched by them before.
Always when I least expect it.
You’d think I would learn.
The line is going way too fast and I end up on the other side of the room creaming and sugaring my coffee.
This is not where I want to be.
I scuttle like a rat to the closest table to them.
For those that are not used to this behavior from me, sorry, its what I do.
I am not close enough to hear what the hell they are saying.
Not my day.
Well, if I can’t hear them, at least I am not missing anything.
What a disappointing day.
And then she started hitting the window.
Mrs. Evil has evidently noticed either the dog licking his nuts or the homeless guy fluff bathing on the porch.
Either way, she has had enough.
She is rapping on the window hard enough to bruise her knuckles.
I think its the dog nuts that has pushed her this far.
An awkward, twitchy silence has descended over the Starbucks, smacks against the window spaced evenly between sharp, loud “HEY!” every third rap.
I am redeemed.
Its childish to be this way, I know this.
But it sure as hell isn’t boring.