There's a guy sitting across from me. He has a mug of some warm beverage, probably tea since I can't smell the burnt vegetation 'aroma' of coffee, and every so often (annoyingly irregularly) he takes the loudest slurp you could possibly imagine from the mug. The volume is simply phenominal. Comical, almost.
Except that I want to punch him. Really hard. In the face. Every ridiculous-volume slurp pushes me closer to the edge. Rage is building like a tsunami within me, waiting to burst forth and pound the idiot into the floor.
Friday is not a calm place for thomas.
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