The bistro in my building has recently started charging twenty five cents for coffee refills, after having free refills for the past six years. This twenty five cents is not a big deal to most people, but for those of us who are flat out addicts, it can be a crisis.
I grabbed my wallet at refill time this morning and found I only had five cents. Uh oh. You would think this might be helpful to me. Maybe get me to stop at one cup of coffee.
Ha. You don't know me at all, do you?
No sir. I use my feminine wiles and my pearls to hit the boys up for quarters. And I tell them it's really in their best interest to give me refill money because without that refill, my caffine level is sub-par and that makes Raechelle very cranky.
And the boys know this now. I don't even have to finish my sentence. They see me coming, pearls swinging, empty coffee cup in hand and they start digging through their pockets.
My boys like to keep me happy. Why would I ever think of leaving my job?