I was working this morning, from 5 am to 11 am as a barista at Starbucks. (everybody? all together now in your best slave song voice, "Massah got me workin? Got me workin in de field, someday massah set me free!")
About 9 am (kind of early for breaktime, I thought) a group of Witnesses came in. Believe me, they were dubs. I didn't need to see the blood cards in their wallet, or the strange collision of navy blue sportcoats and khakhi pants which was my uniform during my personal Dubbing Time. They were nicely dressed, well behaved, and sooooo polite.
I looked at them, and I KNEW who they were. It was like a spider sense or something.
Anyway, the point of this encounter, and the only reason I remember it, was the young girl, about nineteen, I'd guess. She was soooooooooooooooo FINE! I mean, I was wondering what kind of screwed up psychological issues or brainwashing/imprinting had happened to me to make a nineteen year old in a floor length green felt overcoat the most sexually appealing thing I'd seen in probably four hours. Of course, it could just be the whole slave / owner thing going on for most baristas / customers relationships.
But she was definitely flirting back with me. I mean, she was eyeing me up, presumably in front of her parents and dubby sponsored Potential Mate (tm) and she was practically ready to give me her number.
Sheesh. Anyway, they bounced after a while and that was that...
Comments? Memories? Dreams?
CZAR