Sadly I've just noticed that aside from hair color I bear an uncanny resemblance to Lou Costello.

This morning, going through the Dunkin Donuts drive-through, the person I was with placed the following order, “Large French Vanilla, cream & sugar on the side, and a Great One black.” An easy enough order, right? Well, the window cashier handed my friend a small coffee cup explaining that they had no creamers, which she passed onto me as she handed the cashier my tenspot. The first thing I noticed was the weight of the fucking cup. Why did they give her an entire cup of cream? The second was the heat. So as she began pulling away I popped the lid, sure enough, the brainchild had given us a small coffee with cream rather than cream for the coffee. Being chivalrous at heart I volunteered to go in and get the cream.

So I walked into Dunkies for the simple task of trading the coffee for some cream. Here’s where the whole incident took a right turn into the Dimlight Zone™:

Me: Excuse me?
Window Cashier: Can I help you?
Me: Yes, this was supposed to be cream.
WC: Oh, is that black?
Me: No, it’s coffee when it’s supposed to be cream on the side.
WC: Oh, we’re out of creamers.
Me: I know that, I heard you as we came through the drive-through.
Shift Manager (coming over to see what the trouble is): Can I help you?
Me: Yes, I didn’t order this coffee, it’s supposed to be cream.
SM: Oh, they gave it to you black?
Me: No, they gave me coffee instead of cream.
SM: So you want me to get you a black coffee with cream on the side?
Me: No, I already have the coffee, what I need is the cream on the side.
SM: Oh, we’re out of creamers.
Me: I KNOW that.
The Floater (coming over to find out what the commotion’s about): What’s going on?
Me: I got a cup of coffee at the drive-through when we asked for cream.
TF: So you want a coffee with cream?
Me: No, I have the fucking coffee, I need the CREAM
TF: So you want a black coffee with cream on the side?
Me: NO, I already have the black coffee, I need cream on the side.
TF: We’re out of creamers.
Me: I KNOW that. I need a cup of cream.
TF: Wait, that’s what I gave you.
Me: If it were a fucking cup of cream I wouldn’t fucking be here asking for a fucking cup of cream.

I give myself high marks for not murdering all three on the spot.

On an unrelated note, for those of you Obamanogs that still insist that we’re in the middle of a recovery, I wrote this on my iPod Touch sitting in a Starbucks in the middle of North Andover. Well, not actually in the Starbucks as the inside was standing room only, sitting out on the sheltered patio in the middle of the rain. And, no, it wasn’t all college kids and bored housewives with nothing to do. Most of these people were my fellow unemployed professionals desperately searching for work. Though in my case it’s health enforced unemployment and my search is for freelance work. The upside of unemployment? Loads of free time. The downside? You squander it stressing out over bills & rent and in a desperate search for the money to pay them. Funemployment my left testicle.