Coffee and the menopause

I think that I am going to have to invent a new tipping system especially for the more senior of citizens. As you know I do enjoy the company of old folks but sometimes they can be a tad demanding, allow me to explain. When I amble to your table all you have to do is say what you want and I will get it and we are done. If I decide to stop for a chat that is my perogative. What is not acceptable is for you to not know what you want and order a coffee whilst you think about it. If you then order a sandwich I have had to make two trips to your table and if you subsequently order desert, well you see my point. So why don’t we come to an agreement here? $1 per trip to your table plus $3 for the pleasure of my conversation. Is that fair?Actually and purely by chance I may have discovered a solution that puts the Coffee Bitch firmly at the wheel. We had a cold front blow across Kissbotty county last week and finally I was able to turn off the air. I have been itching to do this ever since the boss discovered an old Virginia law that states that utility bills must be paid out of the tip jar (and far be it from me to argue with the law, or the boss). Well of course the place started to warm up and one of my wrinklies started to fan herself. The boss, spotting her distress, gave me the look of she who must be obeyed, turned to the crumbly and said “It is rather hot in here isn’t it?” Thank goodness for that, she replied, I thought I was having one of my hot flashes. Hmm, thinks I, I bet half of the post menopausal relics in Kissbotty are on some sort of hormone replacement and probably smuggled across the Mexican border if I am any judge. So as soon as I am bored all I have to do is make sure that the boss is out of harms way and then dick around with the heating. In a flash (so to speak) the place will be empty again and I can get on with my life. For your convenience I will place an extra tip jar by the door.