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April 8, 2006
She turns to me and smiles. I prepare myself for battle. "And here, hun',"says Mary with a smile I recognize from years of dealing with hormonally homicidal females, "is your coffee."She places the pitcher in front of me. I eye it. "Being as you drink so much and this old lady can't keep up with you,"she continues with her smile just the same, "I think it's better if you just have a pitcher of your own."
I make absolutely no move to help myself to the coffee. I also don't jump on her pathetic attempt at flattery.