Coffee

I love coffee, and because I am exiled to a non-Starbuck town, I have gotten used to drinking McDonald's coffee. Not much of a downgrade as you would think. At 1.33 for a large coffee, it is more economical and it has a drive-thru. Quite a plus for a girl that like to drink her coffee still clad in their pajama pants and wife-beater. I go to the same McDonald's every morning and I have became well acquainted with the ladies that work at the window. One, however is an enigma. Some mornings, she smiles broadly and says, "Hey, I got your Splenda and cream. Here. Good morning." Other mornings she looks through me as if this is the first time she has ever laid eyes on me. I gauge my response by hers. I am always friendly, but never too familiar. I fear coming off as condescending - a feeling I hate - but I want to know what brings about those mornings of seeming despair, or maybe she's just sleepy. It is such a thankless, low-paying job; where people work with assholes and serve assholes. Although they infuriate me sometimes, I know that if I were them, I would be grumpy too.