While procuring coffee today, someone who shall remain nameless because she’d kill me if I used her name, tried to order whipped cream on her mocha. What I heard her say was, “Would you whip me, please?” I immediately thought, “Oh hell, my fever’s back. I’m hearing things.” Then he barista looked at her, mildly alarmed, and replied, “You want whipped…cream?” Making me feel better and her want to fall into a giant hole in the ground.
As we were leaving we spun around and said it again, laughing to ourselves. Unfortunately, there was a man walking by right at that moment. Unlike the terrified barista, he seemed intrigued. We left as quickly as we could.

I swore I wouldn’t tweet anything about this. I said nothing about blogging.