Stuck on Yourself Much?

Ugh, says Charlie Brown. You Blockhead, says Lucy.

As some of you may know, I work at a local coffee shop. (I don't hate Starbucks or want to cut it's corporate legs - for the record!)

I closed tonight. Hence why I am up so darn late! And not any of the 4 of us wanted to be there. So we were all a little grouchy.

Tonight a guy came in. First we were busy and he was loudly chatting with his friends. I heard the words "abortion" and "rape". I didn't care. I just wanted him to shut up and order. I kept trying to interrupt him. He kept ranting.

Finally we (my manager and I) get his attention. "Oh is it my turn?" I tell him it is through a smile of gritted teeth. He starts to ask what he should get from my manager Michael. I lose interest and make his friends drink.

He doesn't shut up. He starts telling Michael how he (Michael) is like a guy who sells fords but actually drives a honda, because Mike doesn't drink coffee. He orders what Mike says and a sandwich. The entire time he contnues to talk about himself to whoever is listening.

He eventually asks us what our major is. I say I don't have one. He says some jibberish. I can tell he's judging so I say I am old. You are old? How old?

25.

That's not old! How old do you think I am?

Well I am assuming since you say it like that you are older than me.

I didn't say that. How old do I look?

23 or 24, but I'm guessing you are 28?

Well let's put it this way. This will make you feel better. I have interned for the President of Peru. I have interned with the Governor of (insert forgotten state), I have lived abroad in this country and this country and this country.

I'm thinking, "How the hell is that supposed to make me feel better? That means I have done not a damn thing with my life. Thanks bozo." By the way he has his drink. He did not tip. And he hasn't shut up and we're busy. Busy, busy, busy. And I can't even help people b/c he is bombarding me with other questions. And begging Michael to tell him how old he is.

And this ass tried to leave without telling me how old he was. He's 21. I wish I could capitalize numbers. TWENTY ONE!!!!!!! And already has done all these things, by the way I didn't even remotely write all he did.

21!

I hate him. I loathe him.

I've packed my bags and I'm going home.



No. Not because he's done all these things. Good for him. But because he can't shut up about his accomplishments. Oh and when I called them accomplishments... you want to know smart boy's reply?

"Oh these aren't accomplishments. Every college student does this!"

Whatever.

Michael asked when he left if I thought it was bi, gay, or straight. I said I guessed bi. I added that he probably has mirrors all around his bed so he can always be looking himself in the eyes whenever he has sex with anyone.

Mean? Maybe. But he did not stop talking about himself. Not for a second.

Again. Good for him seizing opportunity! Good for him traveling abroad. Interning with high officials. Look into my eyes. I don't hate him for any of that.

But nonetheless it makes me feel like shite. Nonetheless he feels superior.

Nonetheless, he's a rich kid and didn't tip. He made James change out his chips. He has no manners. And he thought since the fact he's done so much in his 21 years and it didn't make me feel better about my life that telling me he had a brand new car that was only 1 month old totaled by another driver would in fact certainly make me feel better. His folly will not make me feel better. Yes, for sure with that display he is in fact 21. 21 and stupid. So ha! :-P

Do I have anything nice to say about him? ...........................

He had nice teeth.