“It’s unacceptable, honestly.” she declared. “There’s no thought involved. No care.”
“A real tragedy,” he added; approving her plight.
The lights seemed dimmer than usual. The one directly above them had burnt out the day before. Conversation surrounded them. A soft-spoken couple in the corner. The science teacher to their right who had never learned to whisper. The child whining behind. Where was that draft coming from?
“Seriously?” she said to everyone in general.
“I’ll text Alex,” he said as he wrote out a brief message: WILL B L8. SOMETHING CAME UP
They had been standing there seventy-eight seconds longer than they intended. About one hundred ninety seconds before it happened. So, in total, nearly two hundred sixty-eight seconds. A shallow, adolescent anger guided their thoughts and actions.
“We should call someone. This just isn’t right. I mean come on.”
“I already tweeted it about them. Check this out.”
They both laughed.
Just then a gentle voice spoke to them directly.
“Sorry for the mix-up. Here’s the large, triple, half sweet, non-fat, medium ice, iced coffee you ordered.”
Photo by Gian Prosdocimo on Unsplash