These folks kind of remind me of the kids in Rent. Struggling, starving, drug addicted and secretly rich.
Today was like any other, except that it was near empty and incredibly quiet --and by quiet, I mean not having to yell over The Stooges to order a latté. While buddy made my coffees, this dirty schmo comes in and starts chatting up the other server. This was my treat:
Dirty Dykey Server: Hey! So how was your EXmas?
Dirty Schmo: Dude! I don't know! I'm just getting home now! I was partying all night long.
DDS: On what?
DS: Acid, man!
DDS: It's an acid christmas!
DS: Yeah, man! My friend called me up, said, "there's twenty of us here, get over here." So I go and I asked them if they'd ever had Christmas dinner fucked up on acid. So we did it!
DS: Yeaaah. I don't even think we ate dinner. The last thing I remember is someone peeling the skin off the turkey and putting it on their face.
And that was when I knew I was done. Naturally, the question "ever had Christmas dinner fucked up on acid" means that it's not his first time. Loverly.