Today I went to work. Yelnatz held the tent flap open for me and said, "Good morning!"
Speaking of people who are irritatingly polite, I went to cut a Christmas tree down about a month ago and went to get brunch at The Country Kitchen. The waitress there was very polite. She brought us our menus and set them down on the table. "Pardon my reach," she said. I pardoned her. We ordered food and drinks. She brought us our coffee. "Pardon my reach," she said. I pardoned her. Then she brought our food. She set down my plate, "Pardon my reach" and everyone else's, "Pardon my reach, Pardon my reach, pardon my reach." I stopped pardoning her reach. I hoped this would lead her to stop pleading for forgiveness.
It did not.
Every time she visited the table from then on, her arrival was accompanied by a "Pardon my reach." By the end of it even if she'd stuck her entire arm in my face I wouldn't have given a damn.
Pardon my French.
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