Mr. Douchebag-Leery-Pants

This morning, I wake up, all happy, snuggly and sated next to ‘The Boy’ (yes, he deserves quotes and cap’s),
*leeeee siiiiggghhhh*
(that is the sound I make when I am happy and sated)

He leaves for work, and I leave to go to my favorite little coffee shop to write for a while.
Now, said coffee shop is a mad-house.
All. The. Time.
and I am tired (and maybe a little hungover – thanks to all the ‘I missed you’ martini’s with ‘The Boy’), staying in bed would have been an optimal solution…. but alas, not gonna happen.

I just want coffee’s and quiets and to write a little.

I have found a secret little cave in the back of said shop on the back deck. The back deck is usually empty. Silent. and totally wonderful.
YAY!
Today was no exception.
Got my coffee, my tamale (yes, I eat tamale’s for breakfast – what’s it to you?)
Set up my computer… and…
and…
Out walks Mr Douchebag-Leery-pants.
oh fuck.
Seriously?

Mr Douchebag has received his secret name within five minutes of invading my secret spot. He sits down next to me (really. Not even joking) when there is a half dozen other tables and chairs out back,
Coughs (in one of those nasty I’ve been smoking too much and going to cough up a lung kind of ways)
Then says “Hey Baby”.
Not. Even. Joking.

You sir.
You win the Douchebag award of the day.

I need more coffee.

And stop fucking leering at me.

Update: Seriously, clearing your throat every 30 seconds? What ever you are attempting to dislodge is either gone for good or there to stay. Mr Douchebag who is in flip flops, board shorts and a Hawaiian shirt and it is 65 fucking degrees and cloudy outside!

Oh gawd – I am so annoyed…. today is going to be a great day.

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