I’m not going to build this up…I got into an altercation at the convenience store this morning….with a guy. I stop at this particular gas station nearly 3 mornings a week on the way in to work in the middle of the night and it’s usually just for coffee. I don’t care what people say about adjusting, but it’s been 5 years of this schedule and I don’t think I’ll ever “get used to it”. That also means, I will never enjoy conversation at 4 a.m. Unless I’ve spent the night at your place and you are entertaining me in some way, I don’t want to hear a voice or have my voice be heard at that hour. 
I felt this way even at 7 a.m. carpool on the way to high school. Don’t talk to me. I can’t be alone on this one right? I mean give me 3 cups of coffee and I’ll do all the talking, but chill on the chatty chat til I see a little light outside. I think my co-workers and I have a healthy understanding of that. We just don’t like talking until we are up. Of course, I’m not going to be all rude about it when someone does say “Good Morning” or something, but I begrudgingly respond. Did I scare you aware yet? So, this morning I shower and leave 30 minutes early so I’m feeling good and productive for a Wednesday. I run in to grab my coffee and new guy strikes up a convo as he’s unpacking hotdogs. He sounds like Kidd’s Wally character with that extra annoying high school dork factor that always tried to prove everyone wrong.
“So, what do you do?”
“I work on a radio show”
“OHHHH REALLY?!” What station?”
“Kiss”
“So you must know Kellie Rasberry”
“Yep”
“Is Kidd Kraddick really as big of a f*%^&ing idiot as he sounds?”
record player comes to a stop at about this moment. especially because he has now come from behind the counter to over my shoulder.
“Actually, he’s one of the brightest people I know.”
“Then why is he a high school dropout?”
“Where did high school get you exactly?”
“I’m just saying, why would anyone be dumb enough to pay to make that show go national?”
“Guess a whole bunch of radio executives with a lot of money.”
“I wouldn’t pay more than 15 cents for that show”
“Try changing that c to an m if that makes sense not cents to you”
he seemed confused
All I wanted is my damn coffee. Maybe a juice, maybe a zone bar, but that was thwarted.
“All I’m saying is I don’t think he’s worth anything”
“Well, good thing I don’t tell you what I think you’re worth here”
“Well I’m not making what he’s making”
“Because you make prepackaged taquitos and insult return customers”
Silence. I win. I’m mean. I’m embarrassed.
