I was sitting near the window at Astor Place Starbucks when a wide blond woman stabbed me with her large pointed bag as she squeezed by, scouting for a table. She inspected and rejected the one in front of me, then finally settled on the one just behind me.
A few minutes later, her lady friend brings back their coffee and a pastry, which has not been warmed to the blond's satisfaction. She takes it to the counter, and when she gets back she's fuming because the counter people were "rolling their eyes." Her friend warns her to calm down, "this is a nice place" she says, but the blond's still agitated and warns she's ready to "jump over the counter and f*ck them up."
Then she takes in her surroundings and stage whispers "this place is so middle class," like it smells funny.
A few minutes later, after she's related how she's afraid to get into the shower at home, and how all the hooks she puts in the wall fall off... after the coffee and pastry's kicked in... she's in a lot better mood.
