In Which You Just Wanted a Coke

The conversation is really interesting, or would be if you cared. She had a blind date last night; he brought his pet ferret named Steve. Steve, you learn, is missing his back paw – fishing accident, or so the story goes. The poor ferret now has difficulty reaching up in his cage to push the button to release the treat. She fell in love with Steve last night, she says.

It was really unfortunate she didn’t like Roger, his owner. He was a bit of a Boy Scout and she liked the bad boy type. Maybe if he had been named Frank, and had given the ferret a castle, she says. Yes, then she might have been more interesting – that is more of a bad boy mentality, she said. Yes, a castle. Then Steve might have a princess named Sharon or Peggy. That would be ideal, and they could wear little sweaters to keep them warm. Warmth is key for ferrets, yes indeedy. The fishing trip was a bust for Steve in more ways than one. He fell in the river you see; of course this was before he lost the paw, and Steve, she learned, didn’t really like water. And so you seethed like you had never seethed before. Steve, his wet fur, smelled badly she was sure. Oh how she would love to have hugged and cuddled Steve in his hour of need. And oh his poor paw, how said.

Yes, it was a sad story really, but the fact is you don’t really care. You see, all you want, ALL THAT YOU REALLY CARE ABOUT, is getting to the soda fountain to get that Diet Coke. But. She’s. Just. Not. Going. To. Move. This unnamed person, talking on her cell phone, reaching for a straw, stopping to point at the not-there-Steve to her friend who can’t see on the other end of the phone line, she just doesn’t care to move. And you, you can’t say anything. After all, you can’t be rude and say, “Hey, um, excuse me…”

After all, asking someone to be considerate, isn’t.

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