TALES FROM THE CAFE.
(cue ominous music, lightning flash, etc.)
I get a call around 1 this afternoon from faithful employee Casey (who is leaving for Hawaii in 2 weeks to do a stint with the WWOOF program). She asks me if I have some of the change bags that we keep at the shop. I say, "Ahh, no," and she tells me that 3 bags are missing from our secret hiding location. I drive to the shop, do some quick sleuthing, and find this footage on my handy-dandy web cam:
At 11:15 this morning the above slob brazenly comes in our back door and goes right into my office where he grabs 3 of our change bags containing about 500 smackeroos. Notice how he opens and closes the wrong drawer 3 times. What the hell is that about? It's almost as if he expected the dough to be in that drawer and he could not believe it wasn't there. Only then does he think to go for the bottom drawer. Is it an inside job? He knew exactly what side of the desk to look in, leading to the supposition that a former employee could be in cahoots. We may never find the guy (though I gave the police a list of ex-employees, some disgruntled, others merely gruntled), but his ugly gym shorts and white cap are now preserved on YouTube.
Parenthetically, Killer's fans are called Victims. So, does that make this crime ironic or is it merely literal? Or is this just one more day on the mobius treadmill of life where all events are both coincidental and intended at the same time?
Methinks it's time for a libation: Help me martini, you're my only hope.