Monday, November 19, 2007

Jihad

She stood there, in her ass-hugging hipster art pants. Black faux-denim, to match her heart. Her over-calculated under-prepped appearance created an aura of social superiority. Her lifeless eyes spoke of disdain.

She huffed, and rolled her eyes at me, standing there in my basic white dress shirt, dorky haircut and matching brown-leather accessories.

It was workday morning. We were in a coffee shop located in the heart of the business district downtown.

I chanced a smile, and said, "Good morning!"

She responded with slumped shoulders and a grimace, slowing disappearing behind drawing drapes of raven hair.

Perhaps it was my lack of tattoos. Perhaps it was my pre-1980 birth date. I certainly wasn't staring at her heavily-tattooed tits, and I tip well!

I was hoping to get a medium coffee and a breakfast pastry. Instead, I got an insult.

Now, the coffee is good and they are conveniently located in my building. However, rude indulgent insolence seems to be the rule. Time and again, the coffee-serving snatches at the Coffee Plant continue to abuse my patronage and patience. And really, when it comes to food service, I can only take so much slack-assed self-importance.

And so, I have declared Jihad. Holy War. I pray to Allah (or whoever) that the Coffee Plant goes under, and the cunty cabal have to go out and find real jobs for real employers who will force them to wear polyester polo shirts with peppy name tags, and teach them to smile warmly at customers far less friendly than me. I pray they seek work at Chillies, Petsmart or Bullwinkle's. I pray for the humiliation that will take their oh-so-mighty coffee-making smirks off their worthless tragically-aloof faces. I pray for plagues, calamity and catastrophe of biblical proportions to befall this Sodom of coffee. I pray for the utter collapse of the Coffee Plant, and yearn for their horror of realization that the world does not, in fact, revolve around their little, and literal, hole in the wall.

Jihad!

Curse them! I will not drink their wretched brew.

On the same note...

Fuck Jack-in-the-Box too!

Really, all I wanted was a spicy chicken combo with a diet coke. I mean, how hard was that? Sure, the two-way intercom ordering system is imperfect, but it belongs to them. If for some reason, the burger-boy cannot make out the final few words of the order, then perhaps he should ask politely: "excuse me, what was that last part of your order?"

What he shouldn't say, especially in a loud condescendingly angry tone, is: "What??"

And! When midget-hooligan Eminem-look-a-like burger punk forgets the fries and drink, and the customer is looking expectantly, waiting patiently for the frosty beverage, the proper response in NOT to cock his head and shrug with an impudent sneer.

So, my level of animosity toward the local J-in-the-B has not risen to the point of protest or boycott. However, they ARE on my list...

10 comments:

  1. Brian, When are you going to realize that most people are just plain miserable. They do not have the education, great family, or ability to better themselves. Your smile and great attitude is just as much of an insult to them. I think this is your opportunity to witness to them.

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  2. You can count me in!
    Perhaps it is my advancing years... perhaps it is truly that things have gotten worse. But the self-aggrandizing, self-important monster-spawn that I run into on a regular basis now, seem to rankle me worse than ever. I wish it was simply the youth of our nation, but we seem to be beset by a plauge of "service" personnel for whom doing their job rises to the level of insult.

    However, you lose me at J in the B - While their service levels may be low, their chicken strips and the "Breakfast Jack" really are quite superior!

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  3. Forget Chilis, you should wish them to work for Carnival Cruise line where they have to wear the preppy outfit and smile at the "I'm-on-vacation-and-it's-your-job-to-make-sure-I'm-having-a-fabulous-time-goddamnit" WT plus not be able to escape to anywhere larger than a footlocker with a roommate, or the crew bar which will take all of their hard-earned cash and leave them with nothing to show for their contract.

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  4. coffee girl1:53 PM

    Every time I see a smiling happy lawyer, I like to put finger nails and butt hairs in their coffee. I mean what do they think that I am supposed to be nice in return? The world would be a better place if half the lawyers would just explode into flames. Its all I can do to keep the vomit in my mouth everytime I have to help one of these bastards.

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  5. Stan from jack in the box1:56 PM

    The spicy chicken combo has "special" sauce made just for Mr. Smiley Lawyer guy.

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  6. Wait a minute. Was that Ux, or was that Amanda??

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  7. I love your fancy vocabulary and jocularity! This was so amusing. I feel you!

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  8. Their website (coffeeplant.net) explains it all. "Chill" music? What a bunch of fags.

    Oh, and I signed you up for their newsletter.

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  9. Dude - I'll be thinking about your J in B hell when I'm having a lovey double double from In in Out tonight.

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  10. Goddamn it Fred. They emailed me.

    I confirmed the subscription.

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Be compelling.

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