this morning in the starbucks, while i was craving my daily shot of caffeine and all the glorious side effects it brings me, the man in front of me on my walk to the fixins bar jolted me out of my peaceful, cozy aroma-smelling trance.
his cardboard cup holder fell on the ground and he wound up - no joke - and kicked that thing right across the floor and under the bar of cream, sugar and spices. i paused. making sure that was all he was going to kick and surely not wanting to be the next target if it wasn't. what, may i ask, mr. burberry coat, is your problem on this friday against the post-consumer recycled cup holder and the poor people who made your grande-double shot-skinny-latte with a half shot of hazelnut and half shot of vanilla, or what ever ridiculous drink you made them create for you, at starbucks?
instead i asked, "was that necessary?"