RSS

Tag Archives: bagel

Coffee Bean and I are now besties.

You would think that hypocrisy would choke more going down.

Especially when hypocrisy was a large Costa Rica and a mini sparkle donut from the Coffee Bean.

Except that its pretty tasty.

I have been going to the Coffee Bean for almost a solid week now.

Not so bad.

Starbucks, in its infinite wisdom, has decided that letting the wifi go down without being in a hurry to repair it is good corporate logic.

Everybody comes because of the coffee, right?

Right? …………(Sounds of crickets)

Wrong.

Turns out its all about the wifi.

Coffee Bean is usually half empty, and Starbucks is packed.

Since the wifi went down, Starbucks has more people working there than customers, and Coffee is packed.

And here I thought I was addicted to the caffeine.

(By the way, this Costa Rican roast is something special.)

Now that its packed, with all the yoga ladies having their latte’s and surfing their iPads.

Now I realize that those who read this blog on a regular basis, (All 5 of you.) are screaming about this.

I have maligned this place in the past.

Some of my mud-slinging highlights:

1. The average age in Coffee Bean is 85 years old, until I walk in, then it drops 20 years.

2. There is a minimum of 3 oxygen tanks at the table.

3. I once claimed that the epitome of the Coffee Bean experience is when an old man sitting next to me noisily shit hi pants.

I think it would be incorrect to call it lying, not to mention rude, so lets say that a certain amount of artistic license is in play.

I came to the conclusion a long time ago that this blog exists to make me laugh.

And thats kind of it.

I don’t mind it if you laugh, but its not all about you.

Its mainly my vile little mind rambling in print, the more outrageous, the better.

I mark my better blogs by how many times I laugh out loud during the writing.

Its later, I am in a different Starbucks.

I have my familiar caffeine in a mug in front of me.

I don’t think I can use the phrase “favorite” anymore.

Its all caffeine, no matter where the beans come from or how it tastes.

I am need the caffeine, but I want/need the wifi.

Otherwise, I could just pound Rockstars all day.

Rockstar, by the way, is the meth of the caffeine fix world.

You start swilling Rockstar, you end up with no teeth, living on the street, giving oral sex to anyone who will spot you a can.

Coffee is natural, organic, and comes from nature.

Reading that, I realize how silly that sounds.

Its the argument for medical marijuana.

Which is a silly argument, but then, its not my addiction.

The really neat thing about a caffeine addiction is that you can get your fix in a dozen different ways.

Plus the acceptability factor is tough to get around.

Any drug you can be offered at a church social or during a break at a court proceeding means that you will never go without.

Plus its cheaper.

 

I wrote the words above this morning.

And at the end of my day, the irony is killing me.

I got home from work and began opening my mail.

And after all of the absolutely vile shit I have said about the Coffee Bean.

Turns out they felt bad that I couldn’t get to my blog site the other day.

So they sent me a couple of gift cards.

So, yeah, I feel like a dick.

Not the first time.

Get the blog delivered to your Kindle —>Bittermac.com Blog
Get the book —> Bittermac.com Caffeinated Humor Volume 1

 
2 Comments

Posted by on October 4, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Fun with the homeless.

I have a fondness for the homeless as you may well know.

However, I cannot stand someone who is a rude drug addict.

If you want money, ask me, don’t give me some long drawn out lie or convoluted story.

At that point, I have no morals that drive me to help you.

For example, there is a section of Portland, that the homeless will flock around you like moths to a bug zapper the minute you step off the train.

But I have a fix for that.

Drug-addled beggars live in crazy enough, they tend to shy away from crazy outside their own head.

For example.

I had just exited the train in Downtown Portland, near the convention center, when a young guy, probably in his early 20’s, approached me. He looked like shit. 20 going on 55. He was thin, dirty, hair a messy mat. He had several “Crack boils” on his face. A crack boil is when someone is tweaking for their drug so bad that they scratch holes in themselves because their skin is crawling.

The best defense is a good offense. Go crazy first.

I speak before he speaks.

“John? Good, your here!” I am smiling and happy to see him. You can see the gears turning in his head. Does he know me? Is my name John? Before he can come to any conclusions, I hit him again.

“Mom’s party is at three, don’t be late. Did you get a gift?” Once again, he is thoroughly confused. When is Mom’s party? A gift? Odds are his mom is not his daily confidant at this point, so having her birthday current in his thoughts is iffy at best.

“Tell you what, give me the money and I will get the gift for you.” I hold out my hand.

His brain has ground to a halt and he cannot focus. Way to much weird info and he is overwhelmed.

At this point, he walks away. Really it is the only option, otherwise, he has to begin sifting thru the questions shrieking in his head.

I would feel bad but I honestly don’t. We have been over it, you and I, and you need to accept that. I don’t see things changing any time soon.

It is odd that I never felt the desire to treat Garrett like this. For those who haven’t read the tragic tale of my friend Garrett, he was a homeless guy that I ate bagels with and discussed Coffee shop corporate environmental policy with. A gentle soul who was unable to shake drugs and, in the end. they killed him.

But I never felt like messing with him. He was polite and usually coherent.

I have a bit of a sales background and presentation is everything.

Maybe its just like real estate. Location, location, location. Run into a homeless guy down near the beach, surrounded by million dollar homes, it feels safe enough to take him serious and get to know him.

Run into a guy in a crappy part of town and they only thing I feel like doing is be an ass for my own amusement. (Its kind of a recurring theme). No idea who this guy is other than some poor druggy with holes he scratched in his own damn face.

Plus, I didn’t have any change.

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on August 31, 2011 in Uncategorized

 

Tags: , , , , , , ,

Of all the Gin joints in all the world…

There is a Starbucks in Hawthorne that always has their AC running when I go there.

I call it the Freezer.

Thank god they serve hot coffee there, because at 59 degrees, hypothermia can set in with iced coffee before you can finish your blueberry scone.

I got in line behind two people and when I finally stood in front of the cashier, my nipples were like little rocks, no lie.

I got my cup of addiction and had a seat.

Its not a Starbucks I go to that often, mainly because I gave my parka to Goodwill when I moved back to LA from Portland Oregon.

Just as I was setting up my laptop, I saw her come in.

Wow.

Every now and then you see someone with the beautiful gene and the intelligence to present it.

Stunning woman. Average height, maybe mid-thirties. Business suit cut well enough to accentuate an incredible build without being slutty. (Harder than you think.) Just beyond shoulder-length blond hair styled very feathery without going near “Jersey Hair.” Mirrored sun glasses hid what had to be blue eyes, and a flawless, perfect mouth.

I had this feeling that I knew her, My mind kept telling me that was impossible, she had the type of looks you remember seeing.

With her was a younger man in a business suit. He had that look of being just a step above car salesman.

Real estate agent.

I usually do my best not to stare, but I step over into rude often enough that I may just retire there and get it over with.

They got their coffee and sat down at a table just behind me.

Miss Gorgeous sat less than a foot behind me.

“A few good prospects today, the Asian lady kept telling her husband they would love living there. This should sell quickly.” The young guy had a salesman’s voice, suave and assured.

“She smelled like dead fish, I hated them.” The woman’s voice drifted back, cultured and European.

Oh shit…..I felt a chill make its way up my spine and raise every hair on the back of my neck.

I know that voice. I have written several thousand words about this woman.

My ass went into full clinch with recognition.

Mrs. Evil. Couple.

It was one of those moments where, to quote one of my favorite comics, “The left half and the right half of the brain come to a screeching halt. The left says to the right, Its dark in here, and we may die.”

This evil, rotten…..the only word that comes to mind is bitch, but it doesn’t carry enough venom. I would use the C word, but it isn’t broad enough in scope.

To suddenly have the image of an incredibly beautiful woman mixed in with memories of personally witnessing her absolute disdain for everyone and everything around her was almost too much to take.

Her voice pulled my tortured mind back to the present.

“Why did you keep talking about your sister? You kept going on and on, it was very uncomfortable. I doubt we will get any offers because of it.”

“What?” The young guy seemed confused, suddenly slammed. “We were talking about family and siblings. I didn’t think it seemed out of place.” There was doubt in his voice.

She pounced on it. “It was creepy, I thought she was an ex lover until you said she was your sister.”

That got him. “I really think that’s uncalled for.” He was indignant and rightfully so.

Not that it would help. He went for an end to the subject. “We’ll just agree to disagree.”

Take that disagree and cram it, buddy. You have no clue who you are messing with.

“You remind me of my cousin.” She changed the subject without warning.

“Huh, what cousin?” The young guy was off balance.

“He is young, a drug addict, he sucks old men for money. He would agree with you, you seem very similar.“

It was a football punt to the nut sack that the kid never saw coming. It was insulting on several levels at once.

He sputtered for a few moments, then just got up and left without saying a word.

I looked at the front counter. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her watching him go.

She made a noise that sounded like she was chuckling.

I wanted to turn around so badly, but I reminded myself that Mr. and Mrs. Evil Couple had no idea that they occupied such a prominent place in my life. Mainly as entertainment, but still.

When she spoke, I thought at first she was talking either out loud or to me. Then I realized she was on her phone.

“I don’t want to work with Henry again, he ruined the open house.” Sounded like the boss on the phone.

“I think he was high today, he hit on the wives, and a few of the husbands, I think.”

The buzz on the phone was someone outraged.

“Don’t worry, I have an offer to submit, one of my clients texted me on the way to Starbucks.”

The conversation must have changed, I couldn’t hear anything else on the phone, but I knew real estate people.

The broker she worked for may or may not believe her, but in real estate, or just sales in general, you go with the hot hand. If she was selling big, the young guy would be thrown under the bus without hesitation.

I love this woman.

There is something just old school menacing about her. Like the evil queen in the Disney version of Snow White, but with a better ass. The fact that she cleaned up into a stunner only served to make it all hotter and more shameful at the same time. It was one of those situations that was exhilarating, and at the same time, you just felt dirty.

She might be the antichrist.

Before anyone goes off on that comment, I didn’t say she was, I said she might be. All I know is that she is married to a doctor, lives in the tree section of Manhattan Beach, and gave birth to twins about ten years ago.

Absolutely nothing to connect her to most of Revelations.

Unless of course the twins are named Famine and Pestilence.

 
7 Comments

Posted by on August 23, 2011 in Uncategorized

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Rearing its ugly head…Some heads are uglier than others

There is a brisk little business going on at Starbucks, and it ain’t coffee.

There is a husky little blonde running a full scale SAT cram group. Let’s call her Blondie.

There are 5 of them, usually at the big table if its available. They are there from 7 to 8.

Blondie runs a tight ship. She barks her orders and the girls march in lock step.

I have no idea what she charges, but if she can whip these dipshits into high SAT scores, she deserves a frickin medal. There are a few girls that I honestly wonder if they attended, much less graduated from, high school.
You always hope girls this dumb either marry well or lose their looks young. Otherwise, they are just a few months away from swinging on a pole for a living.

Pretty good rule of thumb is that is that if your job involves baby oil and glitter, you’ve made a pretty serious vocational error somewhere.

Not to bash strippers. Any girl who is willing to dance for a living, just to pay for college of course, should be commended for their work ethic.

Plus its hard for a man to criticize a woman in a G-string. Its an instinct thing.

But most women hate strippers. I have never been able to understand that, and in a weird way, I don’t really want to know why.

Back to Blondie.

You have to admire the entrepreneurial spirit.

But how does it stack up against old and bitchie?

Let me explain.

The big table at a Starbucks is the only area of the store that customers often have an agenda for sitting there. Business people, students, and those that feel the need to spread out.

And then there’s the Penguins.

The Penguins are a trio of little old ladies who come in every other morning to play cards. They order their tea, bitch unmercifully about the price, and play a card game that looks suspiciously like gin rummy, but I am not sure, because they cover their cards like high stakes poker players.

They look like they are from the old country. Not my old country, but somebodies old country.

I call them Penquins they always dress in dark colors, are kind of thin in the shoulders and broad in the hip.

I first noticed them one morning while walking to work. As I have mentioned previously, I park about a quarter mile from my office and walk down. As we are the last office building before the beach, parking sucks like no place else.

I noticed the three old ladies walking in front of me. They waddled along in a line. As an obstacle got in their way, they would waddle around it, still playing follow the leader.

And then it hit me. Penguins. I would have called them Lemmings, but I was unsure about getting them to walk over a cliff.

Some people have no sense of humor.

They went right into Starbucks. By this time, I was following along, having been unable to get around them without resorting to old school hockey checking.

They got their tea and complained in their little old biddie fashion, and then sat down to play their cards.

That is when the bitching began.

What was amazing was that it almost seemed that they were having 3 separate conversations, each one complaining about different people.

It was like a bitchie support group.

Enough background.

Blondie was mid chastise with one of the girls about her lack of understand of basic algebra, when the Penguins came in.

Blondie didn’t notice, but the Penguins immediately saw that their usual spot was occupied.

The Penguins waited in line, casting ugly looks at the main table.

It was developing nicely, but I think I was the only one that was getting the situation.

I love this.

The Penguins waited until they all got their tea, properly creamed and sugared them, then marched, I say marched damn it, over to the main table.

“You can’t have the whole table.” The head Penguin’s voice was a combination of shrill and crackly. It was an perfect combo of menace and wicked old, like a witch, maybe.

“We were here first.” Blondie didn’t even look up. She was a business woman and I respect that.

“We want to play cards.” The head Penguin tossed her cards onto the table like she was throwing down a gauntlet.

Blondie looked up. “What is it you want me to do about that? We were here, and we’re not done.” She stared for a few seconds more, then looked down at her book.

The girls, the students, were looking back and forth like anxious little animals, just about to bolt at the first sign that this gets out of hand. Its the smart move. Survival, more than algebra, seems to be their skill.

The Penguins were outraged. There are several things that I can see happening.

They might trade blows. I said might, I didn’t say it was the most probable, just might. And it would be the funnest to watch.

The Penguins should leave. They could go to Coffee Bean. Besides, the crowd at Coffee Bean was much closer to their age. Hell, they may even pick up a few more players.

And then, they did the unexpected.

Without saying a word, the Penguins moved as one to an empty small round table right behind Blondie. The little round tables were way too small to play cards on.

But they had no intention of playing cards.

They started complaining.

All three of the Penguins began chastising Blondie, discussing her lack of manners, rudeness in general.

And then it got ugly.

The Penguins got nowhere attacking Blondie’s behavior. The opening salvo was harsh.

“And not a pretty girl.”

5 words was all it took. Blondie kept staring down at her book, but I could see her eyes well up.

In that moment, they broke her.

It was over.

“We’re done for today.” Blondie closed her book, gathered her stuff and got up.

I thought she was going to head straight out, but she hesitated.

Blondie took one quick step and bent, her head about 6 inches from the ear of the head Penguin.

I have no idea what she said. Whatever it was, it was quick. She straightened, then walked out.

The head Penguin sat there for several minutes, saying nothing.

And then they played cards.

But the head Penguin never lost the haunted look.

Blondie’s parting shot messed with her for awhile.

Good.

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on August 21, 2011 in Uncategorized

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

When you least expect it…Evil Couple.

There are days that life decides to surprise you in a way that is so totally shocking, you almost don’t believe it.

I park about a quarter mile from my office, with Starbucks halfway in between. Its Manhattan Beach, parking sucks 24 7.

I was sending a text and not paying attention, just standing right in front of the escalator when a woman shoved past me. We never touched, but I still felt bad because I was blocking the way.

“Oh, sorry.” I muttered and stepped onto the escalator, right behind the woman I had blocked.

She turned and glared at me, saying nothing. My eyes widened a bit in recognition.

Mrs. Evil Couple.

“Excuse me.” A friendly voice sounded from behind me. I stepped to the side and an older man in surgical scrubs stepped politely past me.

Mr. Evil Couple.

Oh shit!

I am in the scene today. Its like winning a small prize unexpectedly.

“You didn’t need to run off like that.” He stands next to her, looking straight ahead.

“This sounds like your problem, not mine.”

For a second, I am confused by her statement, but then I realize that she is talking on her phone. She ignores his comment.

“Your car smells like shit, I don’t like to ride in it.” As she inclines her head to indicate him, it becomes apparent that she is arguing on the phone with someone, and with her husband, in person.

Multitask arguing. This woman is a dynamo.

I have to remind myself that they don’t realize that I consider their life to be my entertainment.

It is evil, all by itself, But I’m good with it.

I try to act casual and just meander towards Starbucks, and still stay close enough to hear them. I am aided in this by several other people all going in the same direction.

Based on his comments, he was about to pull into a parking spot when she bolted from the car. I am not sure why they rode together, as I had the impression that they rode separately and just met up at Starbucks. I am floored by what he says next.

“The dealership with have your car by tonight, they had to send to San Diego for one the right color.” He sounds apologetic.

“Whatever.” She shits on his attempt at nice.

He bought this bitch a new car?

I know how bad that sounds. Don’t judge me, you weren’t there.

Last I heard her car was being fixed because she hit it with a pole. Her anger then was directed at her husband because he allowed the insurance company to raise her premium, which they do when you hit a pole.

She ignores him and begins arguing with the person on the phone.

“She is old and I have no patience with her.” That little tidbit comes drifting back as we enter Starbucks. Drawing once again on my total lack of manners and listening in during previous conversations, I come to the conclusion that she is arguing with her sister about thier mother. She has stated before to her sister that their mother would have to go live either in a home or with the sister. Her classic comment during that little exchange was that the home can’t be so close to her house that “I feel guilty that I don’t see her every week.”

Lotta love going on there.

If I could have planned this morning, I don’t know that I could have thought of something more delightful. I am almost giddy.

She leaves him to order and walks over to the bathroom while still arguing with her sister. I hear the F word echoing back out of the little alcove with the bathroom door.

She tries the door and finds it locked.

She begins to knock, slowly, loudly and deliberately. And she doesn’t stop.

Awesome.

I use that word a lot when I describe Mrs. Evil’s antics. I am so in awe of the arrogant disdain she views the world around her and her total lack of caring what anyone, including her husband, thinks.

I counted the number of knocks. At 75, the door opened and a thoroughly embarrassed woman came out. The woman tried to glare at her, but it bounced off of Mrs. Evil as she steps briskly past and shuts the door.

The woman, red faced and pissed, finally just stomps off. She can’t win this and she knows it.

It makes me wonder why her husband hasn’t stomped off, years ago. What power does she have over him? Pictures of him having sex with animals? Drugs? Did her family finance medical school for him?

Maybe its a sex thing. A close friend of mine made the comment about this very subject that she, and I am quoting her, “must suck great cock.” Its a crude statement, but I have seen marriages based on weirder shit.

And who knows, maybe she does.

In the end, that is all I get from them today. A few minutes later, Mrs. Evil walks out of the bathroom and sails past her husband, who happened to be getting their coffee creations from the barrista.

He looked around like a little kid who realized mom has left him in the store alone. He took off, trying to catch up.

Good luck, pal.

She has been several steps ahead of you for years.

Sic semper tyrannis

 
5 Comments

Posted by on August 10, 2011 in Uncategorized

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

The first FB posts about the evil couple.

Willy McKinley
Sitting in Starbucks while the couple next to me is having a hideous argument.
May 25 at 8:30am · Privacy:Friends Only · LikeUnlike ·

*
*
Rebecca Standridge, Vicki Morris Nardone and 2 others like this.
*
o
Willy McKinley They just exchanged the ritual bastard/bitch name calling. IT’S ON!
May 25 at 8:42am · LikeUnlike · 4 peopleLoading…
o
Stacy Herring Saez Keep us posted!
May 25 at 8:50am · LikeUnlike
o
Rachel Picard Oooo… let us know when someone gets a drink thrown in their face!
May 25 at 9:00am · LikeUnlike
o
Susie M Henderson Wilkinson Update plez – love that stuff!! Lol
May 25 at 9:19am · LikeUnlike
o
Willy McKinley Arguing over your kids should never degenerate into the wife accusing the husband of being either gay or in love with their own mother. And a husband should never accuse his wife of being frigid in a Starbucks. I should start a blog.
May 25 at 9:20am · LikeUnlike
o
Susie M Henderson Wilkinson LMAO!!! Except the kid part…. !
May 25 at 9:23am · LikeUnlike
o
Christy Myers As the stomach turns
May 25 at 9:23am · LikeUnlike
o
Willy McKinley He thinks the twins should be in separate classes. She doesn’t. That is the starting point. Are you F-ing kidding me?
May 25 at 9:27am · LikeUnlike
o
Donell Gereau O’Brien AND…….what happen to the blog?
May 25 at 10:12am · LikeUnlike
o
Willy McKinley There is a dark side of my soul that really enjoyed being right there.
————————————————————————————————————
Willy McKinley
Meanwhile, back at Starbuck’s, the fighting couple are here, and they are on their FRICKIN’ honeymoon! Its a bipolar relationship. WTF?!?!
June 1 at 8:08am · Privacy:Friends Only · LikeUnlike ·

*
*
Vicki Morris Nardone likes this.
*
o
Willy McKinley Honeymoons over. They are arguing about money now. She said his father was retarded. I would cold cock her over that one.
June 1 at 8:28am · LikeUnlike
o
Karen Goldstein-Eubanks You need to find out from the staff how often they come in so you can plan accordingly and you never miss their fights.
June 1 at 8:44am · LikeUnlike
o
Krista Linkogle-Kaplan Great entertainment in the morning!!
————————————————————————————————————–
Willy McKinley
Boring day at Starbuck’s. No drama. Odd how fast you get used to that.
————————————————————————————————————–
*
Willy McKinley
Angry wife just stomped into Starbucks. No sign of husband. Will there be a game today? Waiting…………
June 8 at 8:12am · Privacy:Friends Only · LikeUnlike ·
o
o
Ezequiel Argueta, Vicki Morris Nardone and 2 others like this.
o
+
Bob Tappan I don’t think all that caffeine is helping them.
June 8 at 8:15am · LikeUnlike
+
Willy McKinley Husband just arrived. They are being pleasant, but she is quiet and glaring.
June 8 at 8:22am · LikeUnlike
+
Willy McKinley They are arguing about Posturpedic beds.
June 8 at 8:25am · LikeUnlike
+
Tracy De Long I love your updates about the Starbucks couple!!
June 8 at 8:34am · LikeUnlike · 2 peopleLoading…
+
Willy McKinley She said he treats his secretary like servant, or a whore. Her foot hurts and it is his fault because he is a Dr.
June 8 at 8:38am · LikeUnlike
+
Stacy Herring Saez This needs to be a novel. I’m hooked!
June 8 at 8:43am · LikeUnlike
+
Willy McKinley He was trying to text a friend to arrange dinner and was questioning what to text. She snatched it out of his hand and said he “Doesn’t know shit.”
June 8 at 8:43am · LikeUnlike
+
Willy McKinley And the Czech accent makes it so much worse.
June 8 at 8:43am · LikeUnlike
+
Bob Tappan Czech accent is bad? I could listen to Zuzana at bodyrock.tv talk all day long…
June 8 at 8:45am · LikeUnlike
+
Willy McKinley Thats because she’s hot, Bob.
June 8 at 8:48am · LikeUnlike
+
Bob Tappan Fair enough.
June 8 at 9:06am · LikeUnlike
+
Christy Myers And so are the days of our lives
June 8 at 10:29am · LikeUnlike
+
Madelon Ries Gerety My Starbucks is not exciting at all!
June 8 at 12:31pm · LikeUnlike
+
Willy McKinley I have been accused of making up the StarBuck’s couple. I can assure you that they exist.
——————————————————————————————————————
Willy McKinley
So people…….what’s up?
June 15 at 7:48am · Privacy:Friends Only · LikeUnlike ·

*
*
*
o
Christy Myers why aren’t you at Starbucks giving us an update?
June 15 at 10:15am · LikeUnlike
o
Willy McKinley They have been missing.
——————————————————————————————————————
Willy McKinley
At Starbucks and they are not here. The young twenties something girl next to me is being snotty with her boyfriend on the phone. Sigh…….its not the same. God I miss them.
June 21 at 7:51am · Privacy:Friends Only · LikeUnlike ·

*
*
Christine Staley, Karen Goldstein-Eubanks, Lisa Dignan Christiansen and 2 others like this.
*
o
Christy Myers NOOOOOOOOOO
June 21 at 9:58am · LikeUnlike
o
Willy McKinley I know. The girl was an amateur. I got a slap-fight when I was ready for a war.
June 21 at 10:16am · LikeUnlike · 1 personLoading…
o
Megan McKinley what?
June 21 at 10:46am · LikeUnlike
o
Willy McKinley There is a couple that argue every morning at Starbuck’s. They haven’t been there for a few days and I miss them.
June 21 at 10:47am · LikeUnlike
o
Christy Myers Maybe they are on vacation? They have to come back
June 21 at 11:27am · LikeUnlike
o
Megan McKinley lol thats nice dad.
June 21 at 12:50pm · LikeUnlike
o
Stacey Rennie I miss them too
——————————————————————————————————————
And then the blog started.
——————————————————————————————————————

 
4 Comments

Posted by on August 5, 2011 in Uncategorized

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

In the Beginning…(Evil Couple – Part 1)

    This is the last flashback I will write. The only reason I am doing this is because I have gotten several emails from people interested in how I first met the Evil Couple. It runs longer than I am used to, so I will break it up into 2-3 blogs.

Let me first state that I am not stalking these people. I just happen to frequent the same Starbucks that they do. I can say that I frequent here a lot more now just because of them.

I like to stop by Starbuck’s prior to work and write, surf the net, answer emails…etc. One of my unfortunate habits is that I listen in on other peoples conversations. For the most part, this is boring.

And then I met……..Them.

When Thoreou said that most men live lifes of quiet desperation, he wasn’t just talking out of his ass. If you listen to someone elses conversation, it is inane and dumb. My conversations to, for the most part.

I first noticed them in line.

She is about 5’7, maybe 150. In her late 30’s. Blonde hair that would hang to the middle of her back, if there was any style to it. Instead, it kind of shoots out from the side of her head in kind of a blonde, “Roseanne Roseanna Danna” look for Saturday Night live fans. Its a lowered blonde afro for those who don’t watch. Her face is european, Czech type features. Cleaned up and dressed properly, this is a good looking woman. She wears a none-descript t-shirt that is XXL baggy. She is exceptional busty, and after turning to the side, there is enough jiggle to tell me that she is not wearing a bra. When each breast moves independent of its partner, something is up. She is wearing sweat pants made popular by Arnold Schwartzenegger back in the 70’s, when he was working out at Muscle Beach in Venice.
Standing behind her is a man in surgical scrubs. He is mid to late forties, distinguished, you would trust your life to him. Well groomed.

And they were together.

I know this because he was turned, looking at something outside the window when the next spot at the register opened up. She noticed that he was turned away and didn’t see, so she flicked out her hand, tapping him to get his attention.

And hit him in the nuts.

To be fair, it was low, but I couldn’t tell if it was a true nut shot.

His head whipped around quick enough, so it could have been.

She spoke to the cashier in low tones, her voice clipped and fast, but too low for me to hear.

The cashier was a little slow to grab the cup and begin writing. >

So she took it from him, the pen too.

    What caught my eye was that it was such a casually crappy thing to do, both me and the cashier were stunned.

    She finally handed it back and walked off, without a thank you, go to hell, an offer to pay, nothing.

    Awesome.

 
9 Comments

Posted by on July 29, 2011 in Uncategorized

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,