One Tough Customer
Latigo Flint doesn't like people abbreviating his name, especially not some tinhorn cash register jockey who apparently isn't even smart enough to steam milk. He asked Latigo Flint what Latigo Flint's name was so he could write it on the cup that would soon hold Latigo Flint's mocha chip frappuccino.
"Oh goodness heh heh heh," he chortled patronizingly. "Let's just go with Lat hmmmm?"
"Let's not." And the room suddenly became very quiet. Two businessmen at the back of the line decided just then that they didn't want coffee after all, and without making any sudden moves they eased for the door. The tinhorn cashier's eyes went wide in a now ashen face and he appeared to be on verge of tears. Latigo Flint didn't need to raise his voice or alter his ever-stoic expression, there is just something in the tone of a gunslinger who knows he's the fastest draw ever born that can turn the blood cold. Stare in the squinty eyes of such a man and you can almost see a concussive flash and hear the sizzling smack of lethal lead tearing horrible trails through vital organs. You can almost taste the dirt, reflexively bitten by dying jaws, and all this tends to make people very uncomfortable.
"The name," Latigo Flint took a small step forward and rested his left hand on the counter. "As I clearly stated, is Latigo Flint." The casher's arm spasmed in terror knocking over the CD rack of Meatloaf's Favorite Songs. "Not Lat, not Flint, Flinty or Lattie. Latigo Flint... Got it?" The cashier nodded rapidly, to frightened to speak and he carefully wrote it on the side of the cup pausing between names to show it to me for spelling verification.
"Very good. Thank you for taking the extra time." (Gunslingers are always polite, ever deadly, but always polite.)
He thrust the cup at the barista with a sob then turned and sprinted into the back area. Moments later a different employee emerged with a very puzzled expression. "What's wrong with Tyler?" But by then Latigo Flint had moved to the drink pick up counter and no one in line felt like talking. "Oh well, guess I'll clock him out on a break - Next?"
posted by Latigo Flint @ 7:10 PM
6 comments
6 Comments:
I bet you score with a lot of ladies with a name like "Latigo Flint."
It's even more cool than "Viggo Mortenson."
I think Mr. Bug's Butt has yet to read the earlier posts...
But the optimism is rather sweet.
-ac
It is true a staggeringly large percentage of the female population reacts to Latigo Flint with something significantly less than sexual excitement. Therein lies the tragedy of Latigo Flint's birth in the late 1970s.
Do you have any idea how much pioneer pussy Latigo Flint would have accumulated had he been born 150 years earlier?... Mercy.
I am certainly not a prude, but that is an alliteration I never want to see again.
-ac
Latigo Flint thought he had a prodigious vocabulary but he so had to look up alliteration.
And a magnificent word it is.
(What would be your response to "beautiful badger buggery"?)
Surprisingly, I am not at all offended by that one. Probably because when I see "beautiful badger" I instantly get a picture of a badger (male OR female, mind you) all gussied up, complete with bonnet, fake eyelashes, and pink lipstick. and that makes me happy.
Don't judge my intellect, I think everyone is somewhat juvenile inside.
Anyway, I like to think that the "buggery" is done sweetly between two consenting badgers, with no concern as to the thoughts (and/or desires, ew) of humans.
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