Me Called Pretty One Day

"I'll get you, my pretty!"

Yeah. I think I heard the clerk at the convenience store cackle that threat at me last night. I can't be sure. I was working up a good mad, so the blood pounding in my ears might have prevented proper auditory signals from reaching my brain.

I just ran in for a minute. To get The Pony a Sprite in a bottle. We had called in a pizza on the way home, after The Pony's academic team practice going over by a half hour. The Pony prefers to eat his pizza in the car while it's hot. Since he has a chauffeur, nothing really stands in his way. But he does request that Sprite to wash it down. I'm selfless like that. Stopping at a convenience store just to get my Pony a drink.

Since I was stopping anyway, I saw no harm in grabbing a 44 oz. Diet Coke. The fountain is right there, you see, on the way to the register after picking up a 20 oz. bottle of Sprite from the cooler. As luck and schemin' Even Steven would have it, I was without a refill cup. So I strolled in empty-handed. Oh, and I forgot the Sprite.

The clerk was that kind of hateful old lady who says all transactions out loud. She glanced up as I came in the door. I think they're trained to do that, in case maybe I'm an escaped axe murderer bent on mayhem. She had one customer at the counter. He was soon gone as I stepped up to the fountain and pulled a cup. The Wicked Witch of the West looked at me, then busied herself by poking her flying monkeys under the counter with her broom handle. Or something. I stuck my cup against the metal dangly thing for ice. SILENCE. Not a rumble, not a clunk, not a sound. I tried again. No dice, no ice.

"Are we out of ice?"

"I don't know. I haven't checked." Again with busywork, probably pinching Toto in that little basket on the floor at her feet. I filled my 44 oz. cup most of the way with Diet Coke, leaving room for ice from Frig's freezer door dispenser. Dang. Even Steven was busting my hump. I may or may not have emitted an audible sigh.

I walked up front and turned in two winning scratch-off tickets. Then I bought three more. Even Steven. I did, however, pull out a twenty to break for smaller bills. "That's fifteen dollars in, and fifteen dollars out in tickets. Is that a refill?" I guess she was testing me.

"No. This is a new one."

"A dollar fifty-seven..."

"Oh. I forgot the Sprite. I'm getting one out of the cooler." I walked the ten paces to the back and snagged a green bottle." There were still no other customers. I put the Sprite on the counter.

"One twenty-five. Is that all?"

"Yes. That's it."

"Out of twenty...did you try the other machine?"

"No. I didn't. I'm in a hurry."

NOW the WWoftheW had the nerve to ask. She was referring to the Pepsi fountain. Which was right next to the Coca Cola fountain. Of course I would not sully my new cup with ice from a Pepsi machine! That would be barbaric. Who in their right mind would push their new 44 oz. cup under the nozzle for ice from a PEPSI machine? Not this old Val. I have standards.

I didn't even think about getting ice from the Pepsi fountain.

I wonder if the WWoftheW would melt if Diet Coke got accidentally spilled on her?