The tale of the crazed starbucks hag(nothing better to say)

So, this chick walks up to the counter, see? Asks for a decaf tall nonfat latte, see? So I rings it up and she asks for a date bar and a blueberry bar to go along with it, see? Now this chick, she's old, right?, she's got that bitter cold slant to her eye, and that mouth with the small lips and frown lines from years of being unhappy, see? Anyways, so I rings her through and givers her her change, right? She gave me a twenty, I gave her around $11.60 in change, see? I go make her drink and come back to tell her it's ready, see? She just stares forward, frowning like she has been right? I go to clean other things while she stands there, and she after a minute or so growls 'that's not right' at me, right? I walk over and ask her 'what's not right' to which she replies 'you overcharged me', see? Obviously she is wrong but I play along with her and print out a receipt, right? 'Nope, I rung it in correctly' I say, see? She continues to mumble on so Shannon comes over and starts to talk to her, right? blah blah blah, she leaves, ok? so, THREE HOURS LATER it is five minutes AFTER we have closed, and I am still trying to get people out of the store, see? As the last people are leaving I am holding the door for them and this woman walks up, right? 'sorry maam, we're closed' I say, to which she replies 'oh no, it's ok' and walks UNDER my arm, see? She struts, STRUTS, right up to the counter, to an angry shannon, and proceeds to complain again about the bill, right? 'I went home and figured it all out' LOSER 'and this just isn't possible', blah blah blah blah we stopped fucking CARING at 10:30 you cracked old cunt, 'you cannot possibly charge more than 15% tax', she blabs, right? Seriously though, why would our machines randomly fuck up on JUST your order, right? 'It could not possibly have costed $11.60'...'oh... wait a minute.... I've been reading it wrong. That was the change given.'... we both make angry faces... 'I'm sorry', and the bitch leaves.

I feel kind of hollow at the moment. Only in that moment though, now it's passed.

People are very strange things. There's a part of me that never wanted to find love because in a way to find love would be to admit it's existence, it's existence it's inevitability, and it's inevitability a weakness in myself. Because to love is to need someone, and somewhere in my childhood I decided that I would never need anyone. If you need someone you leave yourself open, you become vulnerable, and we all know that vulnerability=getting hurt. By the same token, though, I've always had a fascination with surrender, the beauty in the breakdown. It may have started when I saw this african dancer on TV when we still lived in maryland, and he was just standing there with his palms out. Later when they were discussing the dance, he said that his palms were a symbol of his surrender to life. And that just hit me really hard.

There was a little girl on the bus ride home with the biggest brightest eyes I've ever seen, smiling from the seat right across from me. I couldn't help but giggle along with her, this life thing is a pretty good joke.