Nice One, Peterson

Elan and I are meeting up to talk before the conference gets started. It’s been a few years since we’ve seen each other in person. She looks brilliant in her black-framed glasses.

It’s always a little weird at first, talking when you haven’t seen each other for awhile. I’m conscious of wanting to make a good re-impression.

We head over to the coffee place. I get a half-caff, she gets a drink so detailed that I cease understanding halfway through. It may have included the words “snap, crackle, pop” and “magic fairy dust.” It sounded delicious.

I think the baristo was new. Yes, pretty sure. Or maybe he was just a very quiet, possibly shy young man. He fumbled with Elan’s change.

Him – “I’ve only got ones. Do you mind if I give you all ones?”

Elan – “No, that’s fine.”

Me – “Right, no worries. We’re heading to the strip club later, so those ones will come in handy.”

Elan – “…….”

Him – “… . …”

Me – sipping my half-caff, dootie do. “Um, I was kidding.”

Deafening silence and many wide eyes. Operation Good Re-Impression = Succes!