Piña Karma-da

I was on holiday with my fourteen-year-old son. We were watching the football in a bar in the evening. I don’t really drink, but I do enjoy a cocktail while on holiday.

The server came by and asked if we wanted drinks.

Me: “I’ll have a Piña Colada.”

She laughed a little at the order.

Server: “Oookay?”

She then walked off to make it. This annoyed me a little. I’m just a grown man wanting to drink a tasty cocktail; what’s wrong with that?

When she brought the drink back, as she was placing the drink on the table, I said:

Me: “My mum loved these, God rest her. I always have one on the anniversary of her death to remember her.”

She looked horrified and tried to shuffle off quickly. I asked her for a cocktail stirrer, so she had to come back again.

When she came back, I took a sip from the straw, kissed my hand, and pointed to the sky, trying to look sad. She was so visibly uncomfortable, I had to stifle my own laughs.

She noticeably avoided our table multiple times after this.