A Bitter Drink With A Sweet After Taste

(Outside the coffee shop where I work, there’s a beggar who sits there just about every day. I always bring him a cup of coffee when it’s quiet. As I am not allowed to bring my own wallet behind the counter, I pay for it at the end of the day before I close the till. On this particular day, a customer I have just finished serving and has been watching me intently, follows me outside.)

Customer: “Excuse me, what the h*** are you doing?”

Me: “I’m bringing this gentleman coffee.”

Customer: “What, for free?”

Me: “Not that it’s any of your business, but no, I will pay for it tonight.”

Customer: “What, so you’ll pay for my coffee too?”

Me: “No, sir. Clearly you can afford to buy your own.”

Customer: “This is ridiculous! I work hard, I buy the most expensive thing on your menu every day, I pay my taxes, yet I don’t get free coffee! Does your boss know you’re doing this?”

Me: “Yes, sir. He approves.”

Customer: “F*** you. No he doesn’t. He doesn’t want bums walking around with [Brand] cups! I’m going to report you. Who’s your boss?”

(I point to the Catholic church across the street.)

Me: “That guy. If you want to file a complaint, you’ll have to wait. He’s usually only in on Sundays.”

(Amazingly, that was the end of that.)