Had the audacity to say: "Stop asking so many questions Courtney, you're distracting me!".
So I said "Evelyn, I paid to be here, so I'll ask as many questions as I'd like, and whenever you ask questions, it turns into some loooong off-topic story".
My teacher (Kevin) and other classmates were staring at me trying not to laugh, cause my gosh, once she gets talking, everyone stops listening cause her stories aren't relevant to the class.
Great story Courtney! Reminds me of a little tale of my own! As some of you may know I work in a store and for all it's worth, it's worth it.
One day I was working the tills when suddenly a silhouetted figure approached the door, and as much as I squinted, I couldn't quite make out who the man of mystery was. It was like a scene from a western as the elusive figure tipped his baseball cap forward and tucked his thumbs in his belt as he approached the till.
"Well I'll be." I thought to myself. I looked him up and down and realised it was none other than notorious high school bully, Big Bad Bertie "The Bloke" Bensinger IV. He had given me absolute HELL through my high school years, partaking in such acts as calling my mum a 'strawberry milkshake', hanging kitchen utensils off my nose and tying my shoelaces together when they were out of my peripheral vision so when I began to walk, I'd make a muddle of it and trip over myself.
I decided to keep my cool, and as he told me what he wanted I quickly fetched it for him and gave him the price. "That's 57p, please." I said, with a cold, collected stare plastered across my face. He smirked as he handed over 拢1. I could tell what the barstool was thinking. He thinks he's got me again. Well not this time. This time, things were gonna be different.
As I rang in his transaction, I went to get his change, and he watched my fingers closely as they slowly skimmed past the 20ps, glided over the 10ps and zoomed past the 5ps. The look on his face turned into one of absolute horror as my fingers gently slipped past the 2ps. The revenge train had reached its last stop. The 1 pennies.
He looked awkward and fidgety as I scooped up his change entirely in 1ps and handed it to him. "There you go sir. Have a nice day." I said, winking. He knew it was over. He may have won the battle, but 5 years later I had won the war. He scurried out the store, zipping up his dodgy tracksuit as much as possible and hanging his cap over his face to hide his shame, and as he did the rest of the customers turned to him, raised their fists in the air and started chanting "YOU GOT SERVED! YOU GOT SERVED!"
Another moment of victory for The Sternemeister. I flexed my muscle to the rest of the customers before carrying on with my job. I sure showed him, I did!
