This is an accurate portrayal of my mornings. Lately, the mornings have been shoving coffee in the faces of angry Pokefans, in town for a Beauty Contest. Most of them don't know a cappuccino from a cup for water, and for that I want to smash them. They also don't understand the practice of tipping. It must have been a foreign concept to them during their lives of large, Persian-filled homes and cushy office jobs at the top of Team Rocket/Magma/Aqua.
Tomorrow the Art Fair ends, god (Blastoise) will rid this city of it's infest by flooding (Hydro Pump-ing) the streets, and I will rejoice by slamming a Snorlax worth of beers.