Fear of Mistaken Intentions

At lunch the other day with wife and friend,
the waitress reached in front of me to pick
up my coffee cup for a refill at the same time
asking me if I wanted more coffee. My mouth
was full. I almost tapped her arm as it passed
in front of me to draw attention to my grunt and
nod of affirmation. And then I recoiled my hand
in horror and fear just in a nick of time as I
thought of accusations galore galloping across
the country and so I nodded, swallowed hard and
choked out, “Sure, mam,” glad I didn’t have to
jump on my trusty steed and head out-of-town
fast.

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