I Loved You Before I Met You

(I’m in line in a coffee shop. The barista is a petite young girl, with very noticeable burn scars all over one side of her face. I’m standing right behind the current customer, waiting for him to finish ordering.)

Customer: *upon seeing the scars* “Holy f***! What the f*** is wrong with you?”

Barista: “It’s… it’s a long story.”

Customer: “I want someone else to make my f****** coffee! You shouldn’t even be allowed in public!”

(The customer goes on like this for a good twenty seconds, while the poor girl is visibly shaken and close to tears. I tap him on the shoulder and speak up.)

Me: “I’d suggest you kindly f*** off, mate, before I break you in half.”

Customer: “Now just who the f*** do you think you are?”

(He turns around and evidently forgets how to talk for a moment, after he sees me towering over him. I spend most of my days carrying heavy stuff, and look the part.)

Barista: “He’s my boyfriend. And he doesn’t like it when people treat me like that.”

Me: “D*** right I don’t. You know, mate, every scar is a story. And if you don’t get out of here this instant, you’ll have a few more to tell.”

(The customer practically sprints out of the shop.)

Barista: “Thank you so much.”

Me: “I’m your ‘boyfriend?’ Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

(There really was a rather interesting story about her scars. We got engaged last month.)