Wednesday, December 20, 2006

The Coffee Bandits

I'm not a chauvinistic pig. Really. I'm not. What happened to me Wednesday morning happened to me for two very simple reasons:

(1) I'm male and
(2) The assholes were female.

Some women who read this may disagree. That is most likely because you are in denial or are like the two biotches I am going to describe. Either way, you suck...and men don't like you. So, without further ado...I bring you...The Coffee Bandits.

Before class this morning, I stopped off at Starbucks to help prepare for the day. There was one spot close to the door, next to an occupied, old, white Nissan of some sort. There were two people inside the car, just sitting in the front seat. I have no idea how long they were there, nor did I know what they were planning. No one knows what ridiculous lonely women plan when sitting in a beat-up old Nissan together. I would venture no one wants to know.

As I parked my car, the one in the driver seat FLUNG her door open into my spot; I still didn't think much of the situation. It might have an accident. It might have been rude. I was still half asleep and thinking about my class. I wasn't thinking about what the Wicked Witch of the West or her sidekick Toto were up to.

I navigated around the flung-open door and slowly cruised into my spot. I left my car, and started walking towards the front door of Starbucks. It was about 100 ft away. 100 ft that I will never forget.

As I walked past The Coffee Bandits, I noticed the women hushed their ever-so-important whispers for a moment in case I was eavesdropping or for some reason gave one flying fuck what they were talking about. But, as we all know, in the world of women...every man is trying to get into their "Secret Club of Secrets" and "Sex in the City Insights." If they ever find out why Carrie was so attracted to Mr Big...they will have us all figured out. NEVER. NEVER...NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAHHHHHhahahahahaaahaaa. Believe me. These were two scary-ass women (I'm not sure if they were scary ass-women).

When I was about 75 ft from the Starbucks front door, I heard the *click-clack, click-clack* of overly-weighed down heals of some sort racing up behind me. Imagine a women in a horror a away from a murderer. Such purpose in those steps. Trying to escape death is a worthy cause to run-walk at any time. I found this sound odd at 8:45 in the morning in front of a Starbucks in the middle of San Diego.

Then, in a tornado-like fashion, the younger of the two cackling hens, presumably the daughter, RACED past me...seemingly beating me in a contest of "Who Can Get to the Line Inside of Starbucks First" that I had NO IDEA I had been entered into. I didn't even have my bib on. OK, I did...but I can be messy in the morning before my first cup of coffee. I didn't have my RACING bib on.

Anyway, we all know what a normal walking pace is. We have all seen it. And this chick didn't have it. She was on a mission to save a life. Maybe there was a fire. Or maybe there was a line inside of Starbucks to get into. She should have been equipped with sirens. "Siren Sirens"...get them this Christmas at your nearest "My-Wife-and-Daughter-Are-Bitches-R-Us."

"What the fuck?" I thought. "What the HELL is she doing?"

As she raced to the finish line and won the 100 meter dash, I audibly laughed out loud at her, drawing her attention. What these two idiots didn't understand is that had I gotten to the door before them (which I should have), I would have held the door open for them. Instead, the sniveling, younger, overly-dressed in winter coat and slacks one...was greeted by a long, sleepy customer-laden line. With me standing and laughing right behind her.

While the younger of the two was panting and waiting in the same line I would soon be in, the wrinkled and worn out older hag sped-walked (not run-walked, I presumed because she was suffering from years of run-walking past other people) by me and got to the door before me, too. I would have STILL held the door open for her...but no...she went inside without holding it open for me (even though her daughter was already in line and holding a spot for her)...and only slightly nudged the door open from the inside as I approached, and she released a HUGE "Would you HURRY up" Sigh. All I could think was: Wow...I'm not even awake yet...and these two are irritating the fuck out of me.

When I saddled up next to them in line, I shit you not, the two gave each other a knowing glance that I caught from beneath my sunglasses. The daughter looked at the mother with a "Mission Accomplished" look. There plan, concocted ALL THE WAY FROM THE CAR 101 ft away had worked. Way to go girls. You are the exact image your gender needs to promoting. Selfish. Plotting. Sickening. Score one for you!

As I stood behind them, I gigantic smirk on my mind raced as quickly as the daughter had outside. I looked them up and down from behind my black-veiled eyes and followed their spines...and they both had it...that small Uriah Heep-esque curvature at the top one gets from years of quiet manipulation and Cagney and Lacey marathons on lonely Saturday nights on the Lifetime channel.

But God is funny and SO on my side sometimes.

Sadly for The Coffee Bandits, there were double registers open this morning at the Starbucks...and while they were still in the midst of ordering their Cup-O'-Eye-O'-Newt from Scott, I was simultaneously being helped by Patricia, my barista life savior. While Scott stumbled to translate the witch-like tones of the gruesome-bitchums, Patricia's expertise service got me in and out of the line before the incantations of my now mortal enemies were completed. Here's to Patricia!

I beamed as I turned and found one of the few cushy Starbucks seats still open. As a considerate male, I looked around and waited a few moments to see if the seat was actually in use, but simply unoccupied for a second. As I sat, The Coffee Bandits walked towards me.

I watched them, sunglasses still on, and was awestruck with amazement at the odd interaction between mother and daughter. The mom actually, and this REALLY happened, said to her daughter "You should have taken that seat while I finished ordering." The daughter looked back to see what seat was in question, and she saw me. Grinning from ear-to-ear, staring, smirking, and judging her every move. She abruptly turned away from my look and mumbled something inaudible to the mom. The mom, not-so-coyly turned to confirm whatever the daughter had said...and she too, not-so-slyly left my gaze. The whispered like they had in the car.

Oh my fucking god. They think I am flirting with them.

While we jockeyed with our eyes for about a minute, karma finished it's ruthless cycle, and "grande no whip iced mocha for Mark" rang throughout the Starbucks and into my very core of an amused soul. I floated to the counter...walking I had outside. He he he.

But life is nothing if not a constant reminder about how ridiculous some women are. I turned back around and a different women...who SAW ME GET UP TO GET MY COFFEE, had already taken my seat and looked at me with innocent, doe-like eyes. I looked at her and shook my head. Small potatoes compared to The Coffee Bandits. She got a free pass.

It took every ounce of strength I had in my soul not to comment, gloat, or verbally mock these two pieces of work. In my head, many needed statements ran-walked from one side to the next. The one that stuck, "You should run faster next time, and that Prada bag is SO last year" was on the tip of my tongue...but I couldn't say it. Stupid politeness.

I left, joy and coffee-filled. Spine straight. I even held the door open for someone else, as I ventured off to my class at a slow, meandering pace.


Anonymous said...

Biotches.... Even the doe-eyed one.

Anonymous said...

By the way... is this an early draft or something? You have a TON of grammar mistakes here. That's right... mistakes, not errors. :) Oh, I guess I'm a biotch too.

McNastabator said...

Dear "Anonymous," if that is your REAL name...why dont you shut your big, FAT YAPPER!


Tauni said...

So apparently bandits are not limited to simply coffee experiences. One may encounter them after enjoying a movie on a casual Friday evening. It would be a safe assumption that every woman has the capacity to become a bandit, but only a few cross to the dark side.