A few days ago, towards the end of a long and tiring shift, I was violently interrupted as I greeted a table of ladies.
"OH... MY... GOD...," a large black woman shrieked as she scrolled through her smart phone.
Before I could run away from this sure to be awkward situation, the woman looked up at me in desperateness and shock.
"Did you know that Whitney Houston DIED today?" she asked in the most dramatic voice possible.
"Ummmm, no..." I replied, not possibly caring less.
"I've been here for 9 hours now. I've lost all contact with the outside world at this point."
The lady, now on the verge of tears, looked back at me like I had no soul.
"Uhh," I tried to save face,
"Can I get you a drink to take the edge off the news?"
