Maybe Should Switch To Decaf

(I am a second lieutenant in the Army. One afternoon, I decide to make a coffee run to the closest gas station. I’m still on post and everyone is in uniform, with ranks clearly displayed. I grab my coffee and get in line behind a warrant officer. The current cashier closes her lane.)

Cashier #1: “Hey guys, we’re opening this lane, I can take some of you over here!”

(There are several enlisted ahead of the warrant, and they shift over. I wait for him to move, but he just stands there. Since there is a bit of a gap between him and the enlisted, I assume he’s just standing, and I mistakenly thought him in line. Thinking nothing of it, I move over to the new lane. When I glance behind me, I see the warrant officer, glaring at me.)

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry, Chief. Here…” *starts to move to let him ahead*

Warrant Officer: *using a sarcastic tone* “No. You’re obviously in a hurry, ma’am.”

(I look at him in surprise; he’s glaring at me and his tone is very surly. I realize that he thinks I stepped ahead of him, assuming I could because I outrank him. Note that while I outrank him, I am younger by probably a good ten years.)

Me: *in a conciliatory tone* “I apologize. You didn’t move, and I thought…”

Warrant Officer: *sounding extremely condescending and sarcastic now* “No, ma’am, you needed your coffee.”

(I’m beginning to feel hot under the collar at his obvious mistreatment, but I’m not the type of officer to throw my weight around carelessly. I decide that if he’s going to act childishly, that’s his problem, so I turn around and accept my place in line. Suddenly, another cashier comes up.)

Cashier #2: “I can take someone over here.”

(I decide to stick with my line, but the warrant officer has other ideas.)

Warrant Officer: *making over-large and unnecessary gestures* “Ma’am. Ma’am, they can take you now.”

(I turn around slowly and look him dead in the eye. While I’d love nothing more than to rip him one, there are several young enlisted watching, as well as the cashiers, to see what I do. The warrant is clearly gunning for a fight. I take a breath and say…)

Me: *keeping my cool, while still maintaining direct eye contact* “Okay, Chief.”

(I go to the next lane, quietly pay for my coffee, and leave, never once glancing back at the warrant. I don’t know what his deal was that day, but if he was looking to embarrass a new second-looey, he picked the wrong officer.)