Under A Broken Street Lamp

Under A Broken Street Lamp

I was having a cup of coffee this morning at McDonald’s because the coffee is better than Starbucks and I don’t have to see thirty people stare at their laptops. I was there for fifteen or twenty minutes when I felt like I was losing my touch. Absolutely nothing weird had happened.

As I stood up to leave, a short (five foot something) white woman comes running in the side door. She opened the door for the trash bin. Peeks at the counter opens the next trash bin, looks at the counter again. Pulls out a plate with three uneaten pancakes goes to sit down. As she’s walking, a short (an inch shorter she would’ve represented the lollipop guild) Hispanic, a female manager came over to ask her to leave.

“I told you to stop doing that.”

“I didn’t do anything. These are mine, I bought them.”

“One more time and I’m calling the police.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

The manager walked away. I stood up, about to offer her a cup of coffee to go with her hotcakes. Once I was, about, six feet from her, she leaned forward and kind of hissed. As much as I wanted to help, I passed this time. She was dirty and seemed to be either high or possibly unbalanced. Another time.

#michaelessington #misconceptionsofhell



Misconceptions of Hell

Misconceptions of Hell


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