Coffee Cup

I just wanted to watch some tennis on the flat screen at the local coffee shop and I ordered a drip coffee in a ceramic cup, since I would be hanging around. The beautiful barista gave me the coffee in an old cup and I noticed the chip on the lip of the cup right away and told her in my charming way that I travel with a gaggle of Jewish attorneys who will gladly sue when I “accidentally” cut my lip on the lip of the jaded cup. She smiled the most lovely smile and asked if I’d like room for cream.

The coffee was sublime and for the first time in recorded history, or at least my recorded history, a British citizen will be playing tennis in the finals at Wimbledon. I was as shocked as the other out of work computer programmers in the sun drenched Seattle neighborhood coffee shop. I refilled my cup and checked my email.

When I was about to leave I handed the damaged cup to the shops owner and pointed out its flaw and he washed it and gave it to me, obviously understanding the liability, plus I think he had heard the crack about my traveling attorneys.

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