My Three Cents

I should probably be writing a poignant post about my feelings on the loss of Ted Kennedy (in brief: I’m sad) but instead I’d really rather talk about the strange thing that happened at Starbucks this morning.

I handed the cashier payment for a muffin and was expecting to receive $.03 change along with my receipt. Instead, the cashier pulled 3 pennies out of the register and dropped them unceremoniously into the tip jar on the counter before turning to take the order of the gentleman next me. I just sort of stood there looking blankly at the tip jar and then blankly at the cashier and then blankly at the guy next to me and then blankly at the register and then blankly…

You get where I’m going with this right? I basically drew a big blank. I had no idea what to say although I felt like I should say something. Part of me was all I can’t believe she just stole my change while another part of me was all dude, why are you getting so worked up about 3 cents? While still another part of me was all you’ve never touched a surf board in your life so what’s with all this dude shit? As the voices in my head began to crescendo, I suddenly heard another voice – the one that was actually coming out of my mouth. And this time it said, Excuse me, may I have a receipt please?

Yup, a receipt. Please.

Immediately all the voices in my head stopped bickering and teamed up to give me a wedgie.

What the fuck? When did I go soft? What happened to the girl who tripped that guy with her umbrella when he yelled at her to get out of the way bitch? What happened to the girl who took her dollar back from that homeless woman when she realized she had been lied to and the woman wasn’t using it for train fare and probably wasn't even homeless? What happened to the girl who picked a fight with a sausage vendor in front of the Boston Garden because he was being an obscene, chauvinistic pig?

Dude, I used to be a lion like Ted. Now I'm just a p*ssy.