Coffee and the Dilemma

My life is just a series of dilemmas strung together by extended periods of boredom. For example just yesterday whilst gazing mindlessly at the ceiling tiles the Digital Queen of Smallville and a girl friend came in for lunch. It had been raining all day so customers were fairly thin on the ground and this was bound to be an intellectual distraction in an otherwise plebian day of serving lattes to luddites. Well the ladies succumbed to the boss’s soup and sandwiches and ended with one of my finest cappuccinos. Finally they decide it was time to go (and far be it from me to tell tales out of school but those girls really milked the lunch hour). Suddenly to her chagrin the Queen’s friend discovered that she had left her money in her car. The Queen of course offered to cover the tab but found herself just a couple of dollars short. Now as I have explained on may occasions the Queen has been more than generous with her donations to my tip jar so despite the protestations of her friend who offered to go out in the rain to get more wedge I was happy to break the habit of a lifetime and extend a little credit. Mind you I have to say the thought of holding the Queen hostage until she had “loved down” the debt (if you catch my drift) was almost more than man and Bitch could bear until I saw the boss leaning against the kitchen door idly flicking the fly swat and looking at my groin. So the ladies departed into the rain and the IQ of the Coffee House dropped by 50%. About 10 minutes later (and this is absolutely true) a customer who had ordered a take out soup called to say that it was the best soup he had ever had. This conversation went on for 10 minutes longer than necessary and during the call the Queen’s friend came back, dropped a handful of dead presidents on the counter, and departed after telling me that “she hated stiffing people”. Well I was down a couple of Washingtons and now I was up by about twenty, sweet. Now I know that the Queen is going to come back first thing Monday and try to settle the debt. So you see my dilemma, should I tell the boss that I was tipped out an extra twenty?

My life is not my own.