Strawberry Frappe: A Warrior’s Drink!
I’m working at a coffee shop near the entrance to a large convention center. One of the counter workers comes to find me at the back, looking a little bemused.
Coworker: “Uh, we got a customer out front. I think he’s one of your people.”
Me: “My people?”
Coworker: “Just come and see.”
Intrigued, I walk out to the front… to see a full-dressed Klingon warrior ordering a frappe. He’s got everything down perfectly: the hair, the forehead makeup, the clothing, the boots. Apparently, my coworker was a little concerned because the Klingon was carrying a ceremonial Klingon blade on his back, but even from here, I can tell that it’s a simple prop that couldn’t cut butter. (A Bat’leth for those wondering.)
Me: *Walking up.* “Nice get up, uh…” *I look at the name on the drinks order.* “…K’var, son of K’takk. You know Comicon is next week, right?”
Customer: “I care not for your weak human time units! I care only for a Warrior’s drink!”
Me: *Checking his order.* “Strawberry frappe?”
Customer: “Your petaQ here did not carry blood wine! Or prune juice!”
Me: “Yeah, I can see how that would be a problem. Hopefully, the frappe will stir your warrior’s spirit enough until your next battle.”
Customer: “Finally! A human who gets it! I like you! When my death comes, I will drink blood wine in your honor from Sto’vo’kor!”
The Klingon throws down some “weak human money units” for his drink and charges out, laughing like some drunk space pirate.
Coworker: “Like I said, one of your people.”
Me: “You mean a Trekkie?”
Coworker: “Yeah! You know what all those words were.”
Me: “I mean, sure, but I still don’t have an explanation as to why we got one a full week before Comicon.”
Coworker: “Practice?”
We both shrug it off as such, and I laugh at my memorable encounter with K’var, son of K’takk.
The next day, a ‘human’ customer walks in and asks if a drunk Klingon was in our store the day before.
Me: “Well, we certainly had a Klingon. It’s hard to tell if Klingons are drunk or just… well… being Klingon.”
Customer: “Yeaaaah… that was me. Some friends and I did the costumes as prep for Comicon, and we liked the look so much we drank to celebrate… in costume. I woke up the next day still in costume with a killer hangover, and a cup from here with a receipt.”
Me: “Well, I guess that explains that!”
Customer: “Was… was I a good Klingon?”
Me: “Man, you were the best!”
K’var, son of K’takk came back every day of ComiCon the next week, bringing all of his Klingon buddies. They were a riot (the good kind!)
