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Friday the 13th, Part 1

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The day lived up to its name.

I’m not superstitious—I don’t knock on wood; I walk under ladders; and I always make it a point to step on cracks. But there was something kinda funny, kinda strange going on when I walked into Peet’s Coffee for a large caffeinated beverage last Friday the 13th.

Now I always hand out Million Dollar bill Gospel tracts there, so I wanted to change things up a little and hand out the GIANT $100 bills to the help behind the counter because the full Gospel message is declared in no uncertain terms.

The attendant, Tudor, thanked me with a big smile, but the twenty-something woman preparing roasted beans was less than enthusiastic when I offered her one.

“That’s extremely pretentious and rude!” she scolded loud enough for the people in Starbucks down the street to hear.

I glanced at Tudor. “What’s up with that?”

“I don’t know,” he replied with a shrug. “I don’t want to get into it.”

Setting her face like flint the woman ignored me, slamming down her little espresso squeezer, clinking her cups in an aggravated way, making darn sure everyone at Peet’s knew she was perturbed—at me!

It sure is hot in here; funny how I didn’t notice it before.

Looking up at the ceiling, then at the menu on the wall, time dragged as I waited for my coffee.

Bam! Clink! Stony-faced-woman continued to ignore me with a deafening silence.

“I’m sorry if I offended you in some way,” I said lamely.

“I don’t like you giving those to my employees. It’s solicitation!”

“Actually it’s not,” I said defensively. “It’s considered leafletting—and it’s legal.”

“It’s proselytizing!” she angrily proclaimed.

“You are right about that,” I said agreeably.

I grabbed my coffee and slowly—awkwardly—walked out the door embarrassed, vowing to write a letter, make a phone call, or send an email to management about how I was treated so unfairly.

I won’t.

But I’ll be baaaaack.

(Read part 2 here.)

(I later realized who this woman was. Click here to read it.)

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