  So I woke up today to find that I'd smoked my last cigarette the night before. Knowing I could not enjoy my morning coffee without a smoke, I headed out to the corner store to buy a new pack. All my clothes were still in the dryer so I threw on an old pair of pants that hung down around my hips, much much lower than I'd want them to sit. Ah, who cares, drunkbridesmaid? You're only going to the corner store, it's not like you're gonna be sitting down in front of anybody or bending over in a crowd or anything.
Reassured, I headed out. The guy at the smoke store made his usual unfunny quip, "I'll need to see your I.D. and I'll need to get your phone number". Ha, ha, I always reply, more out of pity than politeness. On my way home, I passed the Second Cup and considered treating myself to a latte. I paused at the door though, rememberring how awkward I find the two or so minutes of space between ordering and receving my latte; I'm never sure what to do with myself..do I watch them make it? Stare at the item and price list above my head? Pretend to be absorbed in their merchandise to my right? Oh, get over this, drunkbridesmaid, I told myself as I took a deep breathe and entered the store.
I recognized the guy at the counter and immediately cursed my decision--Elgin retail/service joker #2, only this guy's jokes are so awful, I've even seen his own co-workers roll their eyes at each other. I managed to quiver in a non-little-girl voice, "One skim vanilla bean latte, please". He hollered out to the woman working beside him as if they were in a battle field, and my latte the code word for we're out of ammunition, "ONE SKIM VANILLA BEAN! " Then he stood there staring at me and smiling; I stared and smiled back. I could see the weak brain cells dully swimming about in his head, treading water in circles, trying to form something funny to say.
"Ok, that'll be twelve hundred dollars, please. " Ha, ha, I returned. As I handed him a twenty, I knocked my un-zipped purse over. My heart stopped as I heard it--and the twenty dollars worth of dimes and nickles--go crashing on the floor. This can't be happening. A few people clapped; one guy shouted out, "Oh man, that's gotta suck!
" Ya think, retard? As I bent down to pick it over, I felt my pants edge further down my hips, now resting on my butt, exposing a good half of my underwear. I knew I shouldn't have fucking worn these pants! It took me what felt like a century to pick up all the coins. When I finally finished, I raised myself off the floor, hitched my pants up, and felt the blood rush from my face back to the rest of my body.
I was suprised to find my vanilla bean latte waiting for me, all ready. Gee, as much as that sucked, it sure filled the awkward gap between ordering and receiving, I optimistically pointed out to myself. Face sweating, moist hands still trembling, I welcomed the cool breeze of outside and took a sip.. ahhhh---it was all worth it. 
