The Tea Nazi

It all began when my beloved and I sampled tea at the mall. It was a bitter experience, second only to human trafficking.

As I entered the store, the teapots captured my attention. Out of nowhere salesperson appeared and planted himself between the teapots and me. I could not
move forward or sideways. He was a Kevin O’Leary Shark Tank clone. His techniques were arrogant and demanding; a sharp contrast to the cozy atmosphere of the tea
store. I was completely unprepared for his interrogation methods.

He began to bark questions like a Victorian headmaster. He demanded to know what kind of teapot I use. I was too embarrassed to tell him we purchased ours
from Target ten years ago and it howls like a banshee when the water is hot. Peering down his hawkish nose, he informed me they had pots in every price range.
My jeans and sneakers likely supported his impression that their tea pots were not priced anywhere near my stratosphere. I felt like a pair of Keds at a Vera Wang trunk show.

I wanted to l browse the tea blends, but there was no opportunity to escape my interrogator. Curious as to why my beloved was not offering solidarity, I spotted him cowering behind a pillar outside the store. I quickly sent a text to my daughter telling her if we turned up missing to look for our bodies at the tea shop. Her response was “Run”. Seems the tea Nazi had victimized her as well, but she paid his ransom and escaped.

I am ashamed I allowed free tea to influence my behavior. I should have channeled my alter ego bitch. I should have uttered the unspeakable; LIPTONS.

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