Persnickety

This piece was inspired by the word “persnickety”, provided by C.J. Tuor of Chicago, IL. “Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events” on Netflix, was also an influence.

“I would like to complain!” said a portly, red-faced man. He had a pour-over in his hand, and comb-over on his head.

“Yes, we all would like to complain, wouldn’t we?” said the barista, opening it up to the rest of the coffee shop. “Wouldn’t we?”

“My eye won’t stop twitching!” cried a novelist.

“I can’t taste salt!” declared a dental hygienist.

“My dog is condescending!” claimed an octogenarian.

“You see,” said the barista, “complaining is one of our favorite activities as human beings. I, myself, have had a series of increasingly slovenly roommates. But that has hardly made me unique.”

“I would like to complain specifically!” sputtered the comb-over man. “Specifically, my pour-over has a dead mouse in it!” He tipped his cup and a soggy, dead mouse plopped onto the counter.

“I’m sorry sir, did you not order a medium pour-over with dead mouse?” asked the barista.

“Of course not!” exclaimed the comb-over man. “Who in the wide world would ever order such a thing?”

“Oh that must have been me” called the novelist. He was rising from his laptop. “I thought my pour-over tasted strangely mouse-free.” He stepped up to the counter, picked up the dead rodent, and plopped it into his drink. Then he took a long, luxurious sip. “Aaah”, he said, “that’s much more like it”.

“You…you purposely ordered a beverage with a dead mouse in it?” asked the comb-over man, his anger radically shifting toward disgust.

“Well naturally. I can’t have cream. I’m lactose intolerant”, explained the novelist. “You must be Barney with an i. I’m Barney with a y. It’s no wonder our drinks got switched.” The novelist held up his cup, which had B-A-R-N-E-I written on it in sharpie.

The comb-over man looked at his cup. Sure enough, his had B-A-R-N-E-Y inscribed on it. “Yes, I suppose that’s what happened”, he said. “Still, that’s an unusual drink!”

“And that’s an unusual spelling”, said Barney with a “y”.

“What are you insinuating?” asked Barnei with an i.

“I’m not insinuating anything!” said Barney with a y.

“Then why are you winking at me?” asked Barnei with an i.

“Oh, I’m not winking at you,” said Barney with a y. “My eye just will not stop twitching!”

And with that, the novelist went back to his laptop.

“Probably from all that caffeine”, muttered the barista. “Let me make you another pour-over.”