Fun encounter with the fairer sex this morning. Went outside my apartment to the Farmer’s Market that usually serves only to deprive me of parking on Friday night. Browsed a little, then to the java stand. The pretty twenty-something compliments my “Frozen” shirt with a giggle and asks what I’d like.
“Well … I’ve been craving a BBC. A big–”
[beat, anxiety on her face]
“black …”
[beat, eyes widen]
“… coffee.”
She laughs. Funny she knew the acronym– maybe she’s on Craigslist.
Anyway, she pours, I explain I’ve been wanting to use it for a while. “Well, not use a BBC, but the joke.” “You’re BAAAAD.”
She mentions the shirt again, I say, “Yeah, I watch it a lot with the girls. I mean, I don’t watch BBC with them– er, well, I do” “You’re BAD this morning!” “I mean the British Broadcasting Corp.”
She finishes pouring, but my cup runneth over. I helpfully interject, “BBC ain’t fitting in there, is it?”
She laughs again.
We smile, we part and I walk home in the cold September rain.
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