Hey there. I tend to have very little bad service (probably because I’m still in high school and rarely go out by myself) and this happened a while ago, but this was most certainly a…memorable occasion.
To the guy at the cookie shop,
Yes, I know I’m very short (4’10” to be exact) and I look to be about twelve. I suppose that means I look too young to be ordering coffee. But, really, I mean it when I say I’m seventeen. Honestly.
Not believing I’m that old does not give you the right to GRAB MY HEAD AND PULL IT AGAINST YOUR STOMACH AND GIVE ME A NOOGIE. All while saying ‘Seventeen?! You can’t be seventeen!’ I am. I’m seventeen, and thoroughly skeeved out. Just give me my coffee and my cookie and let me leave.
The girl who couldn’t possibly be seventeen (and hates being touched)