I ordered a black coffee.
It was a new local with so much potential.
The chicken lady was responsive. She'd regret it, I tell ya.
Her husband would regret it too.
They sicken of me quick smart. I got a good few hours of reception out of them then the door closed.
How much is the coffee I asked? I was inside. The air con was cooling things down.
Two Chinese customers joined in the debate.
'Ice coffee?' the more vocal one asked. The other one remained a passive spectator.
No, black coffee.
We bantered back and forth.
Give me a fucking coffee and let the world keep on spinning.
The worker eventually said it was $1.60.
I'll have one of them.
Then handshakes all around. I was definitely in retard mode.
I pulled off my shirt and revealed my tight fitting undershirt that said RETARD.
The drink is placed on my table outside.
How much? I ask.
The two Chinese have come outside and are telling me it's $1.60.
How much? I'm short of hearing, you see.
The chicken lady says $1.60.
But how much is the coffee, I ask again, bringing her husband into my cruel game called cheap entertainment.
He says it's $1.60.
What?
He says it's $1.60.
Now I ask the staff.
He says $1.60.
The two Chinese are now getting vocal.
IT'S ONE FUCKING SIXTY.
They have never seen a red-headed devil like me in their lifetime.
Sorry, my English is no good, I tell the chicken lady.
I'm fishing for more responses.
How much again?
This goes on for too long. I better stop it soon before the chicken lady reaches for her meat cleaver.
Then I count out my coins, one at a time.
This drags out.
Then I ask if I can drink my coffee now that it's paid for.
'Drink, please drink,' says the chicken lady.
But I want to pay for the drink, how much again?
'It's $1.60, but you have already paid for it.'
I scratch my head.
If that's the case, then I think I'll drink my coffee.
Geoffrey is the owner, a total stand up guy. I'll be back.
It was a new local with so much potential.
The chicken lady was responsive. She'd regret it, I tell ya.
Her husband would regret it too.
They sicken of me quick smart. I got a good few hours of reception out of them then the door closed.
How much is the coffee I asked? I was inside. The air con was cooling things down.
Two Chinese customers joined in the debate.
'Ice coffee?' the more vocal one asked. The other one remained a passive spectator.
No, black coffee.
We bantered back and forth.
Give me a fucking coffee and let the world keep on spinning.
The worker eventually said it was $1.60.
I'll have one of them.
Then handshakes all around. I was definitely in retard mode.
I pulled off my shirt and revealed my tight fitting undershirt that said RETARD.
The drink is placed on my table outside.
How much? I ask.
The two Chinese have come outside and are telling me it's $1.60.
How much? I'm short of hearing, you see.
The chicken lady says $1.60.
But how much is the coffee, I ask again, bringing her husband into my cruel game called cheap entertainment.
He says it's $1.60.
What?
He says it's $1.60.
Now I ask the staff.
He says $1.60.
The two Chinese are now getting vocal.
IT'S ONE FUCKING SIXTY.
They have never seen a red-headed devil like me in their lifetime.
Sorry, my English is no good, I tell the chicken lady.
I'm fishing for more responses.
How much again?
This goes on for too long. I better stop it soon before the chicken lady reaches for her meat cleaver.
Then I count out my coins, one at a time.
This drags out.
Then I ask if I can drink my coffee now that it's paid for.
'Drink, please drink,' says the chicken lady.
But I want to pay for the drink, how much again?
'It's $1.60, but you have already paid for it.'
I scratch my head.
If that's the case, then I think I'll drink my coffee.
Geoffrey is the owner, a total stand up guy. I'll be back.
