Should Be On Decaf

(I work at a deli, and for the past month a woman has been coming in and ordering a coffee every day. She is unfailingly polite and friendly, and I begin to look forward to her arrival. One day, she comes in:)

Woman: “Hi, [My Name]. My usual, please?”

Me: “I’m really sorry, [Woman], but the coffee machine is broken. We’re working on fixing it, and it should be fixed by—”

(The woman goes deathly pale, her eyes go as wide as saucers, and she screams at the top of her lungs.)

Woman: “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!”

Me: “[Woman], are you al—”

(She continued screaming like a banshee and dashed out of the deli, screeching and flailing all the while. I never saw her again.)