Fill Your Cup

A little bald man sat in the corner with his coffee and strawberry stuffed French toast. A mother and her two blonde-haired daughters step out of the bathroom and stand in line at the counter. I waited in line at the fountain machine wanting to re-fill my cup.

Just then one of the employees steps out from behind the counter and asks me if I needed help. I politely declined, thinking the mother would be better served by him as her daughters were becoming impatient waiting for their Jr pancakes. The man persisted. I raised my glass and shook it at him, “just a refill,” I smile. He began with a shaking of his head, down turned lips and then a pointing of his finger, “not here,” he replies. “Excuse me?” I asked. “NOT here!” he responded, “you can’t fill your cup here.”

And that is why I no longer go to Denny’s.