He’s Plotting My Death

Today, I’m going to tell you guys about my imminent doom. Sound a bit melodramatic? Good. That’s what I was going for.

As you’ve all probably figured out, I have a slight dependency on caffeine…slight. Anywho, this of course means that like many other stereotypical 20-something/wanna-be writers, I spend a disproportional amount of my “free” time in coffee shops- mainly Starbucks because it is only a block away from my apartment(go ahead and roll your eyes and groan, it’s OK, I don’t blame you).

ANYWAY- due to the significant amount of time spent at this particular Starbucks (no, stalkers, I’m not telling you where it is, nice try), I have not only become a regular, but I have also learned to recognize the other regulars. Some of my favorites include:

-The Two English Teachers who are also total Bros: 30-40 year old chums (I say chums because they are English, and have awesome accents) they come in frequently to swap teaching stories and argue over grammatical errors

-The mom with the three cute little kids who come in to drink “coffee” (fruit smoothies) and play with puzzles.

-The old lady who comes in for several shots of espresso. No joke, she always starts with one, then goes back up 2 or 3 times. She is all I aspire to be as a future old lady.

-Sir Hipster and his Lovable Mutt: This guy makes the list because he is just cool. He rocks an actual top-hat and a swanky overcoat, and he sits outside with his dog (a total mutt but the most well trained dog I’ve ever seen, and very friendly) when it’s warm enough and plays gypsy-style guitar music. Coolness factor: maximum.

Of course, with the sweets come the sours. Although a majority of the regulars are seemingly wonderful people, there is always ONE CREEP that ruins the experience. In my case, the creep has been nicknamed Mr.McMeanMugs. The name sounds a little cutesy, but that’s on purpose. It helps me cope with the fact that there is nothing cute about the fact that I see this guy on a regular basis, or rather, that he makes it a point to see me.

Have you ever been able to visualize Old MacDonald? You know, the farmer with all of the talking animals and the weird obsession with vowel sounds? Whenever I pictured him as a kid I saw an old, slightly plump man in over-alls and a flannel shirt, a balding head and a long white beard. (Yes I know, stereotypes are bad, shame on me and children’s literature, shame shame shame). But guys, seriously, this could not be a more accurate description of McMeanMugs, except he has no talking animals and he is possibly the angriest looking gentleman I have ever had the displeasure of sitting next to awkwardly.


Seriously, this is an EXACT replica of McMeanMugs in toon version. He has the cane, and the beard, and the glasses, and the anger. It’s him.

To be fair, typically, when I see a grumpy old man in a public place, I assume he is just a lonely old codger and he is simply looking for human interaction. Naturally, however, 9 times out of 10 I couldn’t be more wrong. This situation is no exception.

Initially, I sympathized with McMeanMugs, and I tried to play nice. My first interaction with him was on a particularly chilly Wednesday evening. The coffee shop we were in was PACKED, so seating options were few and far between, which meant I had to sit next to strangers despite my strong feelings against doing so. As fate would have it, I got to placed next to McMeanMugs.

He was no more happy about this than I was, and he made that very clear with about 16 overly exaggerated “hurumphs”. He made this ugly little throaty growl noise whenever I moved, or typed something, or blinked. Finally, in an attempt to make peace with the creep, I made the worst decision possible. I said hello.

That’s it. That’s all. One measly little “um, Hello” to ease the tension was all it was, and now I’m doomed to die. Why You ask? That’s a great question. As an introvert myself, I understand a little resentment towards being forced to interact with people, but I have never (ok, very rarely) had homicidal thoughts after someone says “Hello”. McMeanMugs obviously operates a little differently.

In the history of mean mugs, this guy has the meanest mug of them all. (For those of you who have never heard this expression. here’s Urban Dictionary’s rendition):


Mean Mug:

to give someone the evil eye or to stare them down while wearing an angry expression

In response to my greeting, McMeanMugs began staring me down…and he HASN’T STOPPED SINCE. Seriously guys, this incident happened at least 5 months ago now, and every time he and I end up at my second home at the same time, he makes a point to sit either close to me or directly across from me and stare at me the WHOLE time. He thinks I haven’t noticed his creepery or something, every time I glance up at him, he looks away for two seconds, then looks back at me as if I didn’t just completely bust him.

As this little game of ours goes on, I have been trying different tactics to suggest to him passive-aggressively to BACK THE FLIP OFF. So far, none of them have worked. I will, of course keep trying, but I make no promises of victory.


I’ve tried mimicking his mean mug from across the room…


I’ve tried confronting him telepathically…


I’ve even tried looking as pathetic as possible to try and appeal to his human sense of pity or empathy. I have determined he does not possess either…

Since none of my brilliant attempts at discouraging this loon from staring me down every week have proven to be successful, I have come to a horrific conclusion; he is plotting my death. It all adds up. He watches my EVERY move to learn my habits, to memorize my movements so he can analyze any weaknesses I may have (and since I almost always spill something or trip, he has probably realized that he’s got plenty of material to work with).

So, friends, it is highly possible that this will be my last post. Clearly I sat next to a homicidal freak on that fateful day 5 months ago and it is only a matter of time before he ends my awkward life. His vendetta towards human interaction is so severe that it has evolved into a murderous, sinister death plot for all those who dare interact with him. Surely I, AmyTheKlink, will shortly be mean-mugged to death. It has been a pleasure knowing you all.

Say something nice at my funeral will you?


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