A Stalk of Wheat and Some Little Chaffs

I'm not sure if you've noticed, but I spend a lot of time alone.  Partly because of my crippling social fears, but also because I just like it.*  Tonight I went to the beach alone, which was very nice until I remembered that it's Saturday night in the beginning of Bonfire Season.

Disappointed at the crowds (because, as I mentioned...I hate other people), I went to make a lap of the parking lot and just drive PCH for a while, but some kids - some ten-year-old boys in girl pants and flannel - were running all around my car.  Faking me out, darting around, and generally being tiny snot wads.

I decided to be an example of maturity and responsibility for them by calling sweetly out my open window, "Really?  Running around moving cars?  You're gonna get killed, you little shits."

Then I drove huffily away, trying to ignore the shouts of "Sexyyy" and "Come back, baby!" trailing behind me.  I should have just run them over.

Still, on my way home I stopped at Starbucks and not only did they take my order even though they were closing, but the guy behind the counter gave me extra caramel in my fancy-pants drink and then charged me the price of a black coffee.  People aren't usually so nice without asking for anything in return.  Like my number.  Or a hand job.  So thank you, Nameless Starbucks Guy and Silent Hipster With the Waxed Mustache, for the most thoughtful yet truly awful-tasting cup of coffee I've ever had.

If only he hadn't been so nice, I could've just tossed it out the window.

* "It" meaning "not being around people, since I hate people."

Image via the aptly named Coffee, Coffee and More Coffee.

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