This morning I desired nothing more than deep fried, hashed up potatoes to start my day. These I fantasised, would be delivered under golden arches, in a brown paper bag by an anonymous face. Dispensed into my outstretched hand as I sat in the safety of my vehicle- oh the irony of deeming my car to be safe, only seven days after I was involved in a minor car accident (I’m good y’all, seriously, the car…eh…not so much).
It’s 6:09am and you’ve not slept a wink, nope not even dozed for a minute.
C’mon you remember, it was the coffee.
Ah yes, the coffee. What an unfortunate mix up.
It was after 7 last night and you ordered a half strength latte, knowing a full strength would not end well….
But the pretty young girl who served you, who wouldn’t look you in the eye, the same one who kept looking over your shoulder, standing on her tippy toes to see through to the mirror behind you, the one who ended the transaction with subtle sarcasm, yes her, that one, she messed up your order, meaning you got full strength.