Cappuccino

There was this occasion when I took a few family members to a local coffee room and there was one member of our group who made a point of asking for double strength cappuccino. Why he couldn’t be content with the same ration of caffeine as the rest of us is a mystery but it seemed to be a point of some importance to him, even though it was just a casual visit. Now the coffee in this particular venue is strong, so strong that just a single cup is advisable and even then, there’s a good chance you’ll have ants crawling inside your skull for the rest of the afternoon. So I say to this member of our party, as discretely as I can, that I thought he should stick with a single measure. He wasn’t a child or a petulant teen but a grown man in his thirties, with a stint in the army behind him and a regular girlfriend, his own house and everything you’d normally associate with adulthood. Yet when I offered my advice he reacted with a stiffened resolve to insist on his double strength cappuccino, you know the same way a child might do when you tell them that just one helping of ice cream is enough. It wasn’t worth pressing the point, so I relented and got him is double strength beverage, much to the dismay of the guy on the counter, and I returned to our table. I made a point of observing his reaction when he took his first sip, it’s fair to say that my expectations were fulfilled and the expression on his face as he savoured his drink told all.

His discomfort wasn’t just plain to me, it became apparent to all around as the rest of our party sampled their own drinks, ‘Oh that’s quite strong,’ is the phrase that would’ve been uttered by one of our number and since been seen so ostensible in his insistence for extra strength coffee, there was a certain focus amongst our group, centred on our member with the double strength cappuccino. We didn’t stare at him of course, just kept an eye out for his progress as we chatted amongst ourselves. He wasn’t up for much chat, and went quiet fairly quickly, I could guess why. ‘Where’s there a rest room?’ he asked just as we were about to leave, I didn’t know the answer, I’m wasn’t sure they even had a WC for the use of patrons, so he had to query a member of staff.

Now this incident puzzles me, why did my relative behave like such a complete wanker when I warned him of the coffee? Was it bluff and bluster, some kind of alpha male bullshit? If it was, it backfired him pretty soundly because he came across as a complete tosser and I imagine his oh so public visit to the lav, made the thought of shaking hands with him a bit of a dubious proposition for most of our party members.

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~ by deadspidereye on March 5, 2017.

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