Woman: Have you ever had Russell Stover’s candy?
Woman: It’s good. Pretty good. And cheaper than a lot of candy.
Woman: I gave them the idea for that.
Woman: Yeah. For the sampler boxes. That was my idea.
Woman: I also gave restaurants the idea to put in free internet.
Woman: Oh yes. I just know how much people love their computers so I said, “Why not put the internet in restaurants?” To make restaurants more money- if they don’t mind buying the internet, that is. It was my idea.
Me: Wow, that’s awesome.
Woman: But somebody took a lot of money out of my account. A lot.
Me: Oh. I’m sorry.
Woman: Yeah. (leaves)
Hope you’re doing okay, Russell Stover’s lady.
Man: (as I’m getting his coffee) Something just came to me! From outer space! Do you know how to make radiation into electricity?
Me: Um… nope.
Man: It just came to me! Radiation is just radicals with no neutrons or electrons to chase! You need to find a neutron beam and beam it into the radiation and then that will turn it into electricity! Just beam that neutron light into the radiation! That just beamed down to me from outer space!
Man: Yeah, these things just come to me sometimes and I tell people and then it gets invented! I had stuff come to me about black holes and other dimensions and stuff. And now it’s a new science! It’s not me- it’s beamed to me.
A woman was yelling, YELLING on her phone:
“You said you wanted coffee, so I’m at a coffee house! You could meet me here! I’ve got a barista! She’s, like, your own personal barista! Yeah! She’ll make whatever you want!”
Forget “your own personal Jesus,” Johnny Cash, what people want is their own personal barista!
There’s a man who brings his six-year-old daughter in to my shop twice a week. Usually they’re on their way to school or to play tennis.
Today he was wearing her Hello Kitty backpack.
A man just came in with his face tattooed like one of these creepy Day of the Dead clowns.
Yes, his face was tattooed to look like this.
Then he got into his SCHOOL BUS and drove away, school kids in tow.
Man: Excuse me do you have any work I could do in exchange for some coffee or food.
Me: No, I’m sorry I’m not allowed to do that.
Man: Thank you. Do you have any writings to submit to my magazine.
Me: No. Um… not at this time. Sorry.
Man: Thank you. (flashes me the “Live long and prosper” sign. Walks out the door, talking to himself but I can hear, “I love rap music forever,” and continues to show me the “Live long and prosper” sign all the way past the big windows and out of sight.)
There is a man loudly reciting his credit card number, bank account number, phone number, and address over his cell phone.
Anyone want an identity?