My toddler happily turns head around and already winks at the girls passing by. My beautiful wife is making sure no old witch in ninja mode can walk up to him and poke her hooked finger into his chubby cheek.
And I'm standing in line at one of these hipster coffee shops where the young and carefree spend their last money on macchiato with almond milk.
Queues- one of the worst things civilized people have ever invented. A couple of hundred years ago, you could be first in line just by having a physical advantage. Of course not my option, I'm not the best fighter on the planet but here in the coffee shop I don’t see worthy competitors.
In front- some brat with pink hair. I think it will be enough just to spit on his hairstyle, and he will run away in tears, repaint himself in a new color so that he is not tormented by traumatic associative memories. He will also throw his pink panties into the bonfire of oblivion.
Behind- two girls, they look... the hell knows how old they are, 13 or 33. These modern ladies in potato sacks, which don't allow us to assess how successful they were in nature's lottery.
You can’t even understand how many breasts she has, do they exist? And what these baggy pants hiding? Two slender beautiful legs or a pirate piece of wood and an ass at knee level? It's hard for guys. (looking at a guy with pink hair…). No, the boys deserve it, ladies take more risks.
A young barista prepares coffee for that guy at a speed equal to his emotional maturation. The two behind-princesses begin to discuss their personal achievements. I have to repeat to myself that I must hold for the sake of my beloved wife and bring her the drink of the gods as a reward for all her suffering in the upbringing of our son. You can do it, cowboy, this is not your first rodeo.
Here it is, the scourge of all queues, you can't do not listen the conversations of the people around you. Lady-student with a pirate leg, in addition, turned out to be the owner of an all-pervading shrill voice that digs into your stream of thoughts like an air siren.
For the last 10 minutes, they have been discussing the complexities of astronomy. Not things like the existence of Planet X and where the boundaries of our solar system end, before or in the Kuiper Belt.
Something more mundane. For example, pirate lady realized that the earth revolves around the sun only at the age of 17 ... you see, the teachers at school were stupid. The topic changes dramatically.
- Can you imagine, he's only 25 and he already has his own car service!
Mmm… I advise you to check the information darling. Most likely he works in a car service as a cleaner, we guys like to embellish and don't like to work.
- He has the body of Apollo and he became the *** champion (extraneous noise from the coffee machine) of our city.
Interestingly, the champion of what? A car service? Cleaning a car service station? A champion at the champions competition? He won the victory and was presented with a present?
Her friend with three, two, five? breasts join to the conversation.
- Wow. How lucky you are! He is very popular. I can't imagine what did you do to get him.
I hear the sounds of breaking glass - this is their female friendship crumbling. Oh right, it doesn't exist anyway.
It seems that the pirate's eyebrows even creaked, and the voice is at one stage from ultrasound, which is able to resonate with the internal organs of the enemy and blow up his balls.
-What do you mean I'm lucky?
Damn you, I'd give a lot to turn back and take a closer look at this scene, but I'm a well-mannered and kind man who knows that it's not polite to stare at pirates.
- Well, I mean, it's difficult to meet his requirements, I heard that he rarely dates anyone ... And we are ordinary girls...
I guessed right, the second lady definitely has something wrong with her breasts, too objective self-criticism.
- Do you know how he admires me?! What gifts does he give me? He can't live without me...
The culmination is close, and the barista asks why the old man like me showed up in their beautiful youth world and reminds me that I can pay for my order by phone, and not put my outdated piece of plastic, and even more so, I should not offer to pay her with gold teeth. Well, baby, get ready to pick up these strange greasy pieces of paper called money…
- Something to eat?
- Yes please…
The noise behind is growing. The barista and I grimace and try to continue our commercial dialogue.
- Sorry, I didn't mean that! - Almost screams mono-chest.
- Do you know what he said to me yesterday!?
These weird ladies start pushing and turn my attempt to order that blueberry muffin into a battle with Parkinson's. The pirate went on board.
- He said that if he could, he would fall on his knees in front of my parents and kiss their feet to thank them for my birth!
Wow. A strong push knocks the banknotes out of my hand and at the first cosmic speed they fly away somewhere to Saturn. That's enough. It's time to bring balance back to the Universe.
- Did. They. Die. in a car accident?
The winner in life-lady put her hand down, she was preparing to hit her less successful friend. The intervention of an incomprehensible man who was not here a minute ago confused her.
- Wha..? Who? How?
- Your parents?
- No, they are alive...
- Great, then you shouldn't yell so loudly and push respectable people, young lady. Apologize and let me go.
...
- I'm sorry, sir.
A little more respect appeared in the barista's eyes.
- Your muffin and raf with coconut syrup is ready. - And so I go with the well-deserved loot to my family, not looking back at the explosion like a tough guy.
- What happened dear? It looks you had a fight with those nice girls?
- Oh no, everything's great. Boyfriend of one of these ladies wanted, but could not kiss the feet of her parents.
- Why he can't? Did they die in a car accident?
- No, they're alive.
- Did their legs get blown off in a car accident?
This is one of those many moments when I remind myself that I don't need to remind myself why I married this wonderful, beautiful and kind woman.
- We'll ask them the next time you want coffee again, my love.