Conversations With Our Customers: The Dropped Spoon

The customer was an imposing figure to say the least. One of those very large but shapely bodies, low cut top oozing the purest essence of buxom. Dark clothes. Bare skin a gallery of expensive tattoos. Her face? Strong and pretty at the same time. She ordered a large, strong latte, but with a spoonful of honey.

She sat outside. I made her coffee and took it out to her. Placing the cup on the table, I somehow managed to knock the spoon from the saucer onto the footpath. We both reached for it at the same time. She got to it first.

"Sorry. I'll get you another one.

"No it's okay. That's fine. This one is fine."

"That's silly. I'll get you a clean one."

"Really, don't bother - I like it like that."

"Like what? Like it's been on the footpath?"

"That's right... I like it dirty."

Grumpy's internal voice goes erm doo doo doo erm for about three hours.

"Seriously, I'll get you a clean one."

"Seriously, if you do that... I'll get angry."

"Angry? And what happens when you get angry. You gonna spank me or somethi..."

Her reply? A single, slowly arched eyebrow.

I got the hell out of Dodge before I got in over my head.