Morning coffee, 8.3.17

I encountered the Hallway Yalper yet again yesterday. Sort of. Continue reading Morning coffee, 8.3.17

Free write, 8.1.17 (part 2)

(from Reddit)

I sat a table of three: a mom, her daughter, and Grandma.

After sitting, Grandma left to order spaghetti at the Italian place next door.

Mom seemed to be having an existential crisis. I asked her what she wanted to drink.

“I don’t know,” she said.

“Can I get you some water?” I asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Do you want me to come back later?”

“I’m not sure.”

The daughter, who was getting impatient, stood up on her chair.

“Hey!” she said. “I’ll have you know. I want apples!”

“But first I have to get you something to drink. Would you like some water?”

“I want apples!”

Grandma ate Italian food in silence while Mom stared at a menu for an hour and a half and the daughter ate apples. When they finished, Mom paid, and they left. She tipped well, considering all they bought was $.50-worth of apple slices.

tl;dr: I sat and waited on a living Wes Anderson movie.

Morning coffee, 8.1.17.

I’m finally working in a position that encourages me to think creatively, so it behooves me to take fifteen minutes every morning warm up my brain. Continue reading Morning coffee, 8.1.17.