The snow was falling thick and fast today as I headed to work. My journey was a stramash of delays due to the snow but eventually, I made it into the city.
I was in no mood to faff about. First order of the day. Coffee. I dived into the little cafe near work and gave my order. I was cheered by the fact that I had a coupon for a free coffee as it was my ninth visit in a row.
A small latte, to go. Oh and I have a free one.
A free one, excellent! Let me get that for you.
The guy (Let's call him Humphybaws) whizzed around with practised ease and started making it.
All was well.
Humphybaws turned to me.
Wet?
He asked cryptically.
I stared at him in utter incomprehension. Wet? What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Of course I wanted it wet. It was coffee. How could it not be wet?
What?
Wet?
He asked again, this time with a bit of a debonair eye swagger.
Just a normal bloody coffee.
I replied somewhat irritably.
Humphybaws looked a little put out but carried on clattering about with various bits and bobs until finally my coffee was ready. He presented me my coffee.
It looked like a bucket of milk. I looked at it and then I looked up at Humphybaws.
Because you have a free one I gave you a large.
Humphybaws beamed.
I snorted wildly and pawed a leathery hoof dark with menace at the ground. I turned my head so that one crazed eye was facing Humphybaws.
Sorry, can I actually just have the small size please?
Humphybaws looked momentarily baffled.
But it's free so I gave you the big one.
Humphybaws said. Brightening up, no doubt thinking that the magic F-word would make everything better.
It's too milky.
What?
Humphybaws pouted as if he was a cat washing his bum and it was matted with winnits.
It's too milky, It's like a pint of milk.
I waved at it contemptuously like it was a filthy nappy and he was suggesting I wear it as a hat.
He shook his head at my ingratitude.
It was free.
He muttered ominously. His upset that my appreciation of his generosity was being spunked in his face plain to see.
The offending coffee was snatched away and he threw it violently into the nearby sink, cup and all. A huge splash glooped out backwards over his barista apron.
Graaaaa!
He yelled.
I looked on with an iron eye. He could hump and hiss about all he wanted but when it came to my morning coffee, I didn't give a hoot.
He started making another, occasionally casting me a baleful glance. Where there was an opportunity to bang something he banged it. Where he had the chance to sigh and roll his eyes he took it.
In fact, I could tell he was wondering if there were any way he could sneak a shit into it as it brewed. Under my hawk-like gaze though the chances were sparse.
Eventually, it was ready.
He passed it to me.
Here it is, small as requested.
Cheers big ears!
I countered grinnily with cheery Glasgow humour. He held on to the cup a second longer than was necessary. I stared at him. I could almost hear his thoughts.
I hate you Mr Small Coffee man.
I hoped he could hear mine.
If you don't let go of my coffee I am gonna ram it up your arse.
Perhaps he sensed danger. The fight in him died and he let go. My soul exulted at the crushing of yet another spirit. I almost demanded one of his large ears as a trophy but decided against it.
I headed out with a cheery spring in my step.
