You were the waiter at the pseudo-ritzy marina-front restaurant. Having just finished brunch, you offered me a refill on my coffee, to which I happily obliged, only to have you wrap your hand around the mouth of my coffee cup when you poured from the carafe. The cup has a handle for a goddamn reason, one of which is that I don't have to drink from wherever your hand has been. I know that legally, you're supposed to wash your hands often, but the crust under your fingernails suggested otherwise.
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