My Witt's End

The Usual

I was making an early-morning drive to visit the Moore's Creek battlefield in Currie, North Carolina, and needed coffee. I stopped at the local Starbucks where I had been twice before here in Myrtle Beach, both times in the afternoon. This morning the young dude behind the counter was ready for my order while I was still 15 feet from the counter. Here's how the conversation went:

Him: 'Morning! The usual?

Me: Aaaa ... (My mind was racing. Should I say yes and see what he prepared? I'd never seen this guy before.) What's the usual?

Him: I don't know.

Me: Aaa, then how do you know what I'd want?

Him: I don't!

It was a pure case of one person with too much coffee in their system talking with someone who had no coffee in their system. 


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