Crotchless...With A Little Cream & Sugar

If you’ve been reading my blog for any length of time, you know that I love my coffee.  Two cups in the morning, in the dark, in peaceful solitude.

A Guilty Pleasure of mine, (that “wife” may not even know about), is popping into the neighborhood Starbucks for a final cup for my drive into work.  While I don’t stop by every morning, it’s probably three times a week that I indulge myself with one more bold "cup-a-joe" for my morning commute with the crazies on the interstate.

Now I like Starbucks’ coffee, and I like the young people that staff this particular establishment.  However, after yesterday,  they’re going to have to scratch me off of their customer list.

You see, for the past 3-4 weeks, there has been a squatter that has apparently set up permanent residence in the corner by the beverage station and staked his claim on the two leather chairs and table.  I can’t see him when I first walk in, but after I pick up my order and step around the corner to sweeten my grande Komodo Dragon...BAM, I’m slapped in the face by Crotchet Man!

For weeks now, Crotchet Man has been there everyday in that same corner, right leg draped over the arm of that poor, molested chair...left leg gapped open the other way...leaned back as if he’s ready to fire an arrow out of his butt to fend off any intruders to the territory which he has seized by his unabashed crotchdom.  Add to it that he wears shorts everyday and it’s just flat out disturbing.  

He’s obviously more social than I am though because he has people there with him every morning who seem engaged in either the conversation or crotch-watching.  Personally, I don’t see how anyone could sit there with any seriousness while this man appears ready to pass a basketball...or worse!

Maybe he’s chafed and needs some Goldbond.  Or maybe he’s just an inconsiderate, oblivious, narcissistic individual that thinks his crotch don’t stink. Whatever the reason, the unfortunate ending to this story is that my guilty pleasure has been snuffed out by a crotch.

So drivers beware!  Take note that you’ll be rolling alongside a man that’s one step short of crazy himself! And now, (thanks to Crotchet Man), I’ll also be one cup short of the patience and courtesy I normally extend to you idiots on the road.

How do I like my coffee?...you may ask.  I prefer mine Crotchless...with a little cream & sugar. 

Curmudgeon Out!
                                  "Things are not as bad as they seem...they are worse!" - Bill Press