Six people sit here in this Starbucks, currently only 33% qualify tweakers. Just five minutes ago a pack of six tweakers left. Needless to say, no one buys anything here. Well, I don't either, I'm already jacked up on 6oz of free coffee from the bank, and my mouth's dryness level prohibits madeleine consumption. I guess cafes in Yochtown (Antioch) can't compete with Starbuck's professional skills at ignoring the freeloaders. No competition here, except by the Starbucks in the Safeway a good solid stones throw away and the other Starbucks a mile away. Shiva forbid I go to the bagel Street Cafe, even more depressing there, acutely depressing, well, maybe not.
Now, more action! Some steroid guy in a white-tee acting hard while asks for his latte to be remade because of too much cinnamon. Get ready for the demeaning sentence of the day: "You want me to tell you what it is.. a snicker doodle." How cute, I never said it, Dr. Banner did. Man I gotta get outta here. Get back to my typewriter.
Ohp, here come tweakers five and six to recover their abandoned fat tire bike painted like a burning man yellow bike (green) and their fog machine. Damn I shoulda borrowed that fog machine, lit shit off in this beotch. More riveting action to come, next time with actual content!
I leave this barista purgatory and get in my -about to fall apart- VW Passat when...Tweak 5 and Tweak 6 start getting stereo-typically aggressive. Not towards me, but to each other. Sure enough these wise words were spoken "I'll square off with you right here! And then I'll tell my brother and he'll come fuck all y'all up." (I'm not sure who the "brother" or "all y'all" are).
They talk a little longer, I light a smoke, didn't think anything would actually happen, I guess I forgot one of these guys was walking around with a fog machine. Then... wham, they "square off", one guy pushes an innocent Starbucks umbrella over at the other guy, it hits my car's hood (a glancing blow, my car's on life support anyway). But it was on, for serious, I didn't see any punches landed, but I didn't want to watch. I wanted to yell something, "stop" or 'relax" or "love one another" but I knew it probably wouldn't work, probably would get my window broken with a fog machine.
In a memory flash I remembered the last fight I witnessed between a bunch of collared shirt bros in SF's toxic Broadway stripper district. At the time I thought it was entertaining until an innocent and very intoxicated bro got clocked pretty bad, then it was just gross. So yeah I remembered that, and just how gnarly fist fighting is in person, it's not entertaining or exciting it's just dumb. I got the hell outta there.
Good story broReplyDelete
Thanks Bro. and thanks for the exploding hearts!ReplyDelete