Sticky Fingers [Hey, You!]
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.
Send anonymous thanks, confessions or accusations—changing or deleting the names of the guilty and innocent—to firstname.lastname@example.org.
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