Heil, Casbah!

So I had rather a surreal last couple of days. Not the days themselves so much, but certain moments contained within them. Besides having locked my keys in my car for two hours this afternoon, while it was running, and witnessing a car wreck by campus, later finding out one of my friends had been involved, and almost getting hit by a cop car as I jaywalked across Guadalupe, I also got coffee nazi'd by the tea guru at the Casbah, night before last. Now, keep in mind this is a coffee house. One which I frequent rather, well, frequently. Only when I ducked in there about midnight on a Thursday and ordered the traditional house coffee, I was told by some bald-headed HJ that it's a hookah lounge. They don't serve coffee there. Cue my eyes to the menu above his head, where the first item on the list is, coffee: small, medium, or large. 'Course being me, I was quite taken aback and ended up leaving, thinking of any number of cuttingly witty barbs only after I was several blocks down the street, en route to watching a car wreck. Oh, and don't worry, my friend was ok.

No coffee for you!