You were in front of me in line at one of those grocery store Starbucks stands. You ordered your drink, a painstakingly detailed tall nonfat soy latte enema blast, and then proceeded to leave the coffee stand while your ridiculous latte was being made for you promptly and professionally by the poor saps who were stuck with the morning shift. I didn't see what you were doing, but I can imagine that you meandered down the bread aisle, aimlessly contemplating which type of bread roll would be appropriate for whatever lame holiday dinner somebody who drinks nonfat soy lattes would cook. Your drink was ready, but you weren't there; you were still shopping. The dude holding your drink called out your name multiple times and, puzzled, left your drink to sit for no more than three minutes. While I was stirring sugar into my coffee, you finally arrived with a bag of bread in one hand and something else probably just as dumb and boring in the other. You had the audacity to demand they make you another coffee, free of charge, because you were worried your coffee was somehow contaminated. The baristas groaned, and you persisted, either ignoring or not noticing how insanely busy and understaffed they were. I glared at you. You represent a nadir in our consumer culture. You made those poor kids working that coffee stand take responsibility for your late latte retrieval. How do you sleep at night, you silly excuse for a shopper?
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