I don't need you to tell me how fucking good my coffee is, okay? I'm the one who buys it. I know how good it is. When Bonnie goes shopping she buys SHIT. I buy the gourmet expensive stuff because when I drink it I want to taste it.
The other day as I was sitting down thinking about drinking the rest of my coffee, I reach over grab a cup, which felt similar to mine in size and weight, and begin drinking. As soon as I took a sip, I realized two problems:
- I taste milk
- This isn't my cup of coffee
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| I like my coffee about as black as Wesley Snipes. Sorry Jackson. |
Shiiiiitt....The moral dilemma I faced was whether or not I should tell person I drank from their cup. It was so fast, I don't think anyone noticed. If they did, they said nothing, yet the person whose cup of coffee I drank from didn't notice. I felt bad that I didn't have cash -although credit card...-, so I couldn't replace their cup of coffee. Worse, even if I did replace it or offer to do such it might be taken as an advance or a planned advance. Neither of those are acceptable outcomes, or desirable to begin with.
So I did nothing and in some sense, while I retain power over the knowledge and truth of the situation, I don't feel any better about such.
Somehow the complete morality or retention of such, regardless of what I could have done after the mistake, was compromised.
So I did nothing and in some sense, while I retain power over the knowledge and truth of the situation, I don't feel any better about such.
Somehow the complete morality or retention of such, regardless of what I could have done after the mistake, was compromised.
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