Free Water, or Why Kids are Evil

There is a children's book called If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, which deals, as best I recall, with the greed inherent in the human condition, and how, when given something, people will take more. It's as if Ayn Rand wrote a children's book, after having acquired an idea of prosaic brevity.

There is a mouse, and it wants a cookie. So you oblige, and now it wants milk. Well this is bullshit, you think, I just gave you a cookie, stop being a freeloading pinko and who the hell is John Galt?, but whatever, no, I'm pretty sure mice are lactose intolerant anyway. But this is not how the narrative plays out. Our overly-empathetic protagonist does give the mouse milk, and then more things, and more, until all property and ideas are shared equally and there is nothing, nothing by which a man can distinguish himself, either in terms of material or ideas, and indeed, the very idea of merit has been stricken down.

Anyway, there is this book, which may or may not be exactly about that. It's been a while since I've read it. But the message, mostly, is that mice are greedy little sociopaths, and kids, hold on to your damn cookies. Clearly, explicit though this life lesson is, I failed to internalize it.

Being close to an art museum, my shop is frequented by field-tripping students. Today was such a day, and a an army of yellow-clad grade schoolers stormed in, milled about, bought nothing, and then asked for water. Just one cup of water, for free. But it's hot out, I thought. There is no harm in this, and anyway, think of the children.

So I presented the cup, smiled, thanked, and went back to wiping off a portafilter or something. But the chum was in the water, blood spreading, and the predators frenzied. They swarmed the counter, crowding out two would-be customers, demanding, water, more water, then refills, then more ice, and samples too, all for free, this, that, no money, gimmegimmegimme.

If you give a kid a cup of water, all the rest will descend upon you like piranhas, tearing and ripping at your supplies and sanity until barely, at the end, grasping at the tatters and threads, they leave you to clean up.

Kids drink the darndest things

A little girl looked at me today, as if I were the dumbest creature she could imagine.

She had ordered a mocha. Simple enough, and a very common order. Only she was young -- had to still be in grade school, in fact.

So I did what seemed obvious, and asked her if she wanted a hot chocolate instead.

Then came the look. She narrowed her eyes, cocked both her head and hips. "I love coffee," she said.

Now I am not normally one to argue with customers. They can get what they want, and so long as I can accommodate their request, I'll do so. But this was a special case. She loves coffee? Right. Whatever. But at the very least, she's got to drink decaf. Kids that age are boundless bundles of energy as is.

Once again, the obvious thing turned out to be the stupid thing. "Caffeine," she said. One word. Not a descriptor, but a command.

Suddenly I'm not seeing a little girl anymore, but some 240 lb wall of ripcord and granite, grumbling through course facial hair about how he wants his gawdamn coffee.

So fine, I oblige. That is my job, at the end of the day. Let her try the thing, take one sip, and learn her lesson.

Or let her take one sip, declare the drink fantastic, and walk away satisfied.

The lesson here? Maybe something about how books shouldn't be judged by their covers, or something like that. But moralizing isn't my thing. Maybe, it's just that little kids are fucking scary.