"Cup of tea?" I ask."No - coffee," she replies.
"Coffee.
"No - make it a frothy one."
"W... what?"
"Get a jug of milk, right..."
"Right."
"Put it in the microwave for two minutes."
"Microwave."
"Pour in into my cup - the one with strawberries on..."
"Strawberries, right."
"...and use that little electric whisk to mix in a spoon of coffee."
"Wanking machine, right."
Hard stare.
"Yes," I say, "the electric whisk."
"Then add a small spoon of sugar."
"Small spoon. And would you like chocolate sprinkes too?"
"Yes. Yes I would."
We have chocolate sprinkles? Why did nobody tell me?
"We have chocolate sprinkles? Why did nobody tell me?"
"They're in the cupboard behind the peppermint tea you call Satan's Spunk."
"Good hiding place."
"Think you can manage that?"
Why, yes. Yes I can.
Three minutes later
"God! What in the name of all that is holy is THAT?"
"Ah. I was hoping you wouldn't notice."
"Notice what?"
"We were out of chocolate sprinkles."
"And...?"
"I improvised."
"Oh."
"I call it a cup-a-soup-uccino."
A dread pause.
"Well?" I venture, "What do you think?"
Shed tonight.
6 comments:
Why oh why, when I actually use a coffee shop (why does that always make me think of Amsterdam?), I have to order an Americano rather than a black coffee?
Well, your new name *sounds* a bit like barrista.
You vajazzled her cappuccino ...
I think you'll be in the shed tomorrow night, too.
At least it wasn't chocolate sprinkles a la Blackadder
It sounds souper.
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