Have you ever been to a restaurant or cafe late at night and had a waiter or waitress bring you caffeinated coffee instead of decaf or vice versa because they were too lazy to brew the coffee you actually requested? That happened to me two nights ago at Assou's Bistro in Telford.
I drank three cups of caffeinated coffee thinking it was decaf. I was wired for sound, high as a kite, hopped up and happy...take your pick. It took me two days to get my sleep pattern corrected because I'm 31 and getting more...er...mature.
Our waitress was nice enough. She was Russian, here on a student visa, studying furniture design and she will be returning home a week from today. Perhaps she figured she didn't have anything to lose. Maybe one of the other waitstaff told her to do it and that no one would be the wiser. Whatever the reason, it happened. I still like her.
Caffeine happens to be one of those things for which some people have a high tolerance. I do not share in that sufferance. By the time I reached the bottom of my third cup, I felt like Cornholio (see Beevis and Butthead). Jeff could see I was getting hyped up after my first cup and a half. I insisted I had asked for decaf, but I too had my suspicions.
When I was home and bouncing off the walls I had to acknowledge the truth. I had been a victim of the old switcharoo. Duped by a Russian. Darn commies.
I drank three cups of caffeinated coffee thinking it was decaf. I was wired for sound, high as a kite, hopped up and happy...take your pick. It took me two days to get my sleep pattern corrected because I'm 31 and getting more...er...mature.
Our waitress was nice enough. She was Russian, here on a student visa, studying furniture design and she will be returning home a week from today. Perhaps she figured she didn't have anything to lose. Maybe one of the other waitstaff told her to do it and that no one would be the wiser. Whatever the reason, it happened. I still like her.
Caffeine happens to be one of those things for which some people have a high tolerance. I do not share in that sufferance. By the time I reached the bottom of my third cup, I felt like Cornholio (see Beevis and Butthead). Jeff could see I was getting hyped up after my first cup and a half. I insisted I had asked for decaf, but I too had my suspicions.
When I was home and bouncing off the walls I had to acknowledge the truth. I had been a victim of the old switcharoo. Duped by a Russian. Darn commies.
i lovr reading about your life rigel!!! you have an amazing skill that makes me see everything you write!! keep it up!!
ReplyDeletesooz
Susanna Bananna FoFanna,
ReplyDeleteThanks for the compliment. I love your guts. We're going to have to do something extra special for your sister's wedding reception in the spring...(insert evil laugh here) MOOOOAAHAAHAHAHAHAA!