Coffee and the End

Dear Reader

This is the Boss. I regret, no regret is too strong a word, I advise you that the Coffee Bitch has died. Apparently it choked to death eating a large amount of humble pie. In the past when this has happened I have normally been able to revive it by wafting a Washington in its general direction and looking for a spasmodic clenching of its right hand. Once I see its fingers twitch a swift kick to the nadge bag normally gets its excuse for a heart running again. Alas and alack, despite my best endeavors (and I promise I really did give his nadgers a good seeing to) it passed away over its keyboard having typed the words “I may have been wrong on this telephone business”.

As you are aware, last night we hosted the Smalltown Telephone Company Inc and their DSL seminar. The lads from STC were actually a thoroughly decent bunch and we both had rather a jolly old time. At the end of it all two things happened that I guess just destroyed its lack of faith in human nature.

First they offered to leave the DSL connection and wireless router in the shop free of charge forever. They then offered the Bitch a huge commission if he sold their service to our customers. To add insult to injury apparently their service is four times the speed of the one he has. Now I freely admit that I don’t know the difference between a megabit and a head nit but 5 Mbits sounds good to me.

Secondly just when he thought he could even the score they got him again. As an act of retaliation he presented his wholly unreasonable and avaricious bill and they refused to accept it. In fact they suggested that he doubled it and just handed over a corporate credit card. Just to show who really was the boss they also added a huge tip.

All in all they just destroyed the Bitch’s will to live and it is fitting that his last blog would have been “I may have been wrong…….. “

The wake will be this afternoon in the plastic wheelie bin behind the Coffee House. I would recommend that you bring a long prodding stick, as when you are as full of crap as the bitch was, things tend to get a get whiffy in the hot afternoon sun. The funeral will be held at the Kissbotty County landfill, courtesy of the Kissbotty County Refuse Service who fortunately collect on Friday mornings. No flowers please but I am sure that the Bitch would have liked to see Lincolns in old pickle jars. The funeral notice will be by way of a help wanted advert in the Smalltown Gazette.

It may seem a little insensitive to speak of a replacement with the Bitch still warm in its wheelie bin but needs must. I will be looking for someone with a Master’s in procrastination. Someone who can turn my finest pastries into apron crumbs and deny all. Someone who even with his hand still in the tip jar, can berate the meanness of Smalltownians. On the personal front and with regard to bedroom etiquette I shall be looking for someone who will regularly scratch his special place whilst exclaiming “Oh yeah baby, that’s the spot”. Someone who can break unbelievably copious amounts of wind whilst simultaneously shouting “Burglars” and throwing the comforter over my head. Someone who on very, very rare occasions might just say “Was that good foooo…….” before lapsing into a coma and then treating me to his 8 hour sinus symphony. Oh yes indeed the Bitch will be a hard act to follow

Sleep well my Prince

The Boss