Binging Betty (a new nickname), previously known as (one of) the dreaded salad people (her + her husband): Enters Mill Mountain. Takes her usual table with her husband. He sits down and begins to read the paper, obviously and easily ignoring his wife. Binging Betty sticks both of her hands/arms (literally up to her elbows) in the trashcan, digs, pulls something out, wraps it in a napkin, and darts off to the bathroom.
Me, the Barista: Hm. That was weird. Maybe she had something on the counter behind the trashcan and it just looked like she took something out of the trashcan. She wouldn't take something out of the trashcan. That would be gross. And she's a health nut. She eats a salad without dressing and croutons every day. No way. She didn't just do that. Ok right. I just imagined that.
Binging Betty: Exit bathroom chewing.
Hmmm..
Me: (being a good barista, stocking muffins, which are under the counter which houses the dirty dish bin and trashcan. One lone muffin has been sitting under the counter for at least a few days seeing as it is as hard as a rock. I throw it in the trashcan above the counter).
Binging Betty: "What's wrong with that muffin? Why are you throwing it away?"
Me: "Oh, it was left unwrapped. Not too yummy... or sanitary."
Binging Betty: (awkwardly trying to engage me in conversation.. I know not why at the time.. but I play along) Why are you back? Where is your husband? Yada yada yada.
Me: Blah blah blah, same story, yada yada yada. (I turn around to make my way back to help a customer).
Binging Betty: (quickly stuffs her hands into the trash can, takes the muffin out, and old-lady speed walks into the bathroom. comes out 2 minutes later, empty-handed).
Me: Curious. Check the trashcan for the rock.. I mean muffin, I just threw away. It has disappeared. Check the bathroom trashcan for the muffin, come to find out, it is holding only a muffin wrapper.
Thank you, Binging Betty, for giving me yet another crazy character to the memoir.
