That Awkward Moment When. . .

that-awkward-moment-when-someone-drinks-out-of-your-cup

I scootched my chair aside to make room for Beth at the table. She smiled and squeezed in, placing her plate beside mine, followed by her cup of coffee. Morning bible study went on. We ate sugary French Toast casserole and giggled over upcoming weddings, when Beth gulped a swig of coffee and quickly covered her mouth.

“Oh no! Did I just drink your coffee?”

A woman across the table nodded. “Yes.”

I realized then that this was directed toward me. Me. Slowly, I laid my fork to rest against the side of my plate.

Beth had drunk from my coffee.

I didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know how to feel.

Horrified? Nauseated? Irritated? Violated? Depressed?

Do I make a joke about her mouth germs? Do I make a joke about mine?

Should I ask her if she feels ill?

What if I threw the cup away and she became deeply offended? She could accuse me of being a racist.

Or she could just get offended.

Does she have mono?

That’s okay to ask someone, right? Excuse me. Sorry to interrupt but… Do you have mono? May I check your tongue?

I should wait for a lull in the conversation. That’s the polite thing to do. Then I’ll ask if she has mono.

After about five minutes, I realized I missed my window of opportunity. I couldn’t make any sort of comment on the defilement of my cup of coffee now. However, I still didn’t know what to do. I could ignore the cup and throw it away once breakfast was over.

But that would mean I got no coffee.

I wanted coffee. I wanted coffee very much. That was my cup of coffee. How DARE she drink from my cup of coffee! I couldn’t ever look at her the same after this.

I welcome you to my side of the table… and this… this is how you repay me? 

That’s when I threw caution to the wind and drank from MY cup of coffee.

Silence. Dead silence. All conversations ceased. Everyone turned. Everyone stared. Everyone gasped and pointed. The twelve ladies at my table may have hidden it well, but they ALL saw me, and they ALL judged.

I just know.

I was disgusting. I was pitiful. Beth probably thought I had a crush on her now.

I realized too late that I didn’t even check my coffee for foreign food floaties before I took the sip. Did I suddenly taste onion? My stomach lurched.

That awkward moment when someone drinks out of your cup at a social gathering?

I may never recover.

Or I may get mono.

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