DO NOT WANT

Today was just another day at the Lucky Bean, for the most part. Everything was going awesome, slinging lattes, cracking jokes and pretty much just being charming as hell in general to help fill up our tip jar.

Then it happened.

It was about half way through my shift when it happened.

This stereotypical white trash family came in. Nothing too unusual at first. The mom was convinced she was an expert at ordering espresso and ended up just ordering a cup of coffee with so many pumps of flavoring and chocolate in it that I would be worried we gave her diabetes if it weren't for the fact that I know women like that have diet mountain dew running in their veins, not blood. So no worries.

The dad mumbles something that sounded like "dey took er jerbs" which I translated to: black coffee. He seemed content.

First son orders a frappe, which he misread and pronounced "Flappy." No big deal, I can keep myself together and not openly judge you. Just save it for later to put in my blog for everyone to judge you.

Second son orders lemonade, nothing funny happened. Not much can go wrong with lemonade and ice. Sorry guys.

Then the mom pays for all the drinks so I assume the third kid doesn't want anything. I take the cash and she tips me a couple bucks (which I found to be very generous since she was using her own money and not a Bridge Card). I wish them a good day and turn to clean up the prep area. After a few seconds I realize the third son is still standing there...

"Oh I'm sorry, did you want something to drink?" -Me

"What's in your Mango Smoothie?" - Jethro Bubba Jr, in a thick southern accent.

"It is a Mango Puree, ice and a splash of milk." -Me

"But...what flavors are in Mango?" -J. Bubs

"Uh, it's just Mango. No additional flavors..." -Me, trying not to explode with laughter

"Yea but what flavor IS Mango?!" -J. Bubs, looking frustrated

"Sir, uhm...a mango is a fruit. Have you ever had a mango...?" -Me.

At this point I am on the verge of tears. I am trying so hard not judge this poor guy who has never heard of a Mango before but at the same time he looks to be about 23 or so years old and I can't find a valid reason to go 23 years with out ever having come into contact with a mango or at least the general idea of what a mango is....

all I can think is:

But then I realize he could very easily be a distant cousin of Aaron McKinney or Russell Henderson and we all know that homophobia induced homicide is genetic. I should tone down the sassy gay voice that implies obvious judgement...but how do I finish his order with out speaking or moving?!

Then he opens his mouth again:

Does this dude think mangoes come from Mackinac Island...? No, he couldn't possibly...

Wait....why didn't the mom buy his drink? Hold up....where did the rest of his family go...? Where did this dude come from?!

Oh no. It can not be. This guy is not a human at all. He is an alien from some mangoless frozen planet disguised as a southern redneck to make people assume he is just slow and simple and not a blood thirsty martian out for smoothies and lynch mobs!

My mind halts and I realize it...
No...
Not today....why?!

I can fix this. I can keep Earth at peace. I believe in myself....

"Well, I could mix it with peach? A lot of people order mango peach smoothies!"

Come on under cover redneck ET, take the bait.....come ooonnnnnnn....

"Yea, I'll try that."

       SUCCESS!

Now, I don't know if I actually convinced him that I did not suspect him of being an alien or he just assumed he had scared me so badly that I would never tell another person. Either way, I win.

Besides, aliens don't use the internet. Science, obviously.