09 January 2010

A Clever Title Here That Says Something About Embarrasment

I decided to go to Starbucks this afternoon to get myself out of the house. A red-eye was ordered and after I paid I went and found a nice private spot in the corner of the shop to hook my laptop up and quietly online shop for school things.
I waited for them to call out "Redeye" so I could walk over to the bar and pick up that piping hot cup of salvation and go about my business.
After what seemed to be an eternity with no coffee in sight, I moseyed shyly up to the bar and stood there with what I hope was an accusing yet forgiving expression on my face. The barista continued mixing her frappes and lattes while I watched patiently. Finishing with a dollop of whipped cream which was immediately smothered in caramel syrup, she held it out to me and said, "Deborah?"
I blushed and shook my head. Why did I blush? I think I was embarrassed that she thought I was Deborah. Excuse me, but I'd like to meet the college student of average college student age named Deborah. A middle-aged woman came up and gladly took the drink with Deborah written on it. I intelligently assume she was Deborah.
I hesitantly ventured, "I'm just checking on my, um, redeye?"
She yelled to the back. I always thought that yelling was off-limits in coffee shops, but I guess I was wrong.
The guy who took my order pointed to the cash register. There was my coffee, as it had apparently been sitting for the last 20 minutes. I apologized (for what, I have no idea- they're the ones who neglected to tell me that the coffee would be placed unceremoniously by the register instead of the usual "Coffee Drink Name Here!" at the bar) and they made a fresh cup for me.
So I sat down in my corner and opened my laptop. After logging into their wifi system, I found out that there is a process you have to go through in order to use their internet. One of the steps (the first step, in fact) is to go to the register and purchase a Starbucks "Rewards" card, whatever that is (why do you have to buy a reward? That makes no sense to me) and then register the card number to their website, which allows the user 2 hours of free wifi in any Starbucks per day.
I was 1. Refusing to buy a "rewards" card
2. Too embarrassed to go back there after being called "Deborah" and having my coffee neglected.
So I piddled around on my laptop. "Piddled" meaning "Playing on MS Paint and Word." I had an hour to kill in that coffee den of horror before my friend with whom I was to meet for a pastry arrived.
My paint creations are mostly terrible, except for a pretty nifty Corel Paint Pro rendition of Mikhail Baryshnikov's fabulous legs that is now my desktop background.
Here is what I wrote while I waited. I don't know if I'll ever finish it. It was entertaining, at least.


PROLOGUE

Once upon a time, there was a very wicked king. So wicked, in fact, that he ate little girls.
But before you gasp in horror, let me assure you that this cannibalistic Excellency didn’t just eat any little girl- he had his own list of requirements for each urchin to meet before the unfortunate child became his tasty meal.
He used to eat little boys, but he found that they were too lean and liable to fight back madly, so for the sake of his royal well-being he put off devouring the young of his particular species (which is to say, Male.)
Little girls were perfect. Well, of course not all little girls were perfect, which is why, I say once again, the Most Honorable Ruler had a list of dietary preferences. His Perfect list is as follows:
1. Must be no older than 10 years old (when they begin to lose that soft coveted fleshiness that tastes oh so good with Royal dumplings and duck)
2. Must be fair of skin and rosy of cheek (Since the fair-skinned are the majority of skin-tones in the kingdom, the Equality-Minded king felt he should encourage more diversity by equaling out the variations in skin-color)
3. Must be of good hygiene and manners (A naughty or impudent child is usually bitter-tasting; no amount of spices or herbs can overwhelm the prevailing taste of sauciness)
4. Must be curly-headed (Straight hair tends to find its way into the Most Gracious King’s soups and cause the Most Excellent Highness to sputter and cough when it catches in the Royal Throat; curly hair has been found to be the easiest to swallow and digest)
As you can see, His Utmost Appetite is not teetering on picky. HOWEVER, many Terrible and Inept Servants have lost important tools (specifically their heads) by failing to follow the Gracious and Merciful King’s instructions accurately. One in particular, Billy Bob Joe, not only failed to follow the Perfect and Orderly Orders of King’s Meals, but he had the Impudence to attempt to STEAL the little girls from the Little Girls Who Have Been Picked By the Honorable King to Be Eaten House. Right before his execution he was questioned as to his motives for this Ultimate Treacherous Act Against the Completely Better-Than-You King. Can you believe what he said?
He insisted that he was RESCUING the wee gals! You can imagine the uproar this caused in the king’s court. Many Refined Lords and Ladies wished to teach this Offensive whippersnapper a lesson his pea-brain wouldn’t forget. (Well, I guess he would forget it, since their plan was to behead him. That’s neither here nor there.) But at the hour of his execution, he was nowhere to be found.

THIS is his story.

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