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.

 From,

The girl who couldn’t possibly be seventeen (and hates being touched)