Dear Coke Mixer Lady,

I do not understand your lifestyle.

I’m sitting in Subway thinking about my life and how it ended up at Subway, and you come walking in from next door.  I don’t know what’s next door, but I’m going to guess travel agency.  Here’s why:

  1.  You were wearing clothes that were businessy, yet way too flowery and weird.  Floral print and a very long beaded necklace with thick beads.  And fancy shoes.  And weird short hair in it with more gel than the L.A. Looks factory could provide in a year’s time.  You looked sort of like Dana Carvey doing an impression of an office worker.
  2. You were wearing a telephone headset.  Take that off when you leave the office.  You don’t have any of your shit, your computer or your notes, so you don’t need to be on the phone.  Seriously, nobody’s calling to pick your brain, so let it go.
  3. I’ve never been in your shop, so I figure it must be something I’m not interested in, and a travel agent is at the top of that list.  I already have a travel agent, and it’s google.com.  Look it up.  I don’t know how you’re going to look it up if you already don’t know about it, but that’s kind of up to you.

 

So you come walking in and head straight to the register.  I’m not sure how familiar you are with the Subway chain of sandwich shops, but you come in, wait in line like people, and then make your way to the register.  But you just walked up, dropped a small stack of change on the counter, and proceeded to the soda fountain.  This is important because it means you have done this many, many times.

You then proceeded to fill your own cup from home with Coke, but then topped it off with Cherry Coke, maybe using Cherry Coke for 1/8th or so.

What the hell?  What makes you think you know the formula for Cherry Coke better than the Coca-Cola company?  I hate people like you.  I bet you order restaurant water with a specific number of lemon wedges in it.  Seriously, what the fuck?  This is like ordering a McDonald’s hamburger and then putting on your own lettuce you brought from home.  You just don’t do that shit in polite society.

Also, why the hell can’t you just bring your own Coke from home?  You’ve clearly pulled this move several hundred times.  How many times did it take before they told you a price, then you came back eight times a day how many times before they pointed out that you were abusing the refill policy?  Then how many times before you brought your own cup?  Then how many times before you agreed on a price?  Then how many times before they knew you well enough on sight that you could just drop it at the register, no questions asked?  Then how many times before you know the exact amount required and brought exact change?  Jesus Christ, you know they sell Coke everywhere on the planet, right?

Get a mini fridge, and grow the fuck up.

Best,
Helpful Snowman