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Veronique de Turenne

Mr. Cranky Pants of Malibu

We're at Malibu Kitchen, early morning and it's cold. Well, not cold cold since it's California and we are, after all, deciding whether to sit inside or out, but it's too cold to comfortably put a warm derriere on a metal chair.

So we go inside where NO ONE IS SITTING and take two of the SIX CUSHIONS from the EMPTY CHAIRS where NO ONE IS SITTING. We go outside and just as we're about to enjoy the breakfast we bought at the Malibu Kitchen (blueberry muffins as big as your head) the notoriously cranky owner comes out and demands the cushions back. Because the chairs inside, where NO ONE IS SITTING, aren't quite as comfy without cushions.

Here's what we said that didn't matter a bit: You've got six cushions, we just took two; no one is inside; we'll return the cushions if someone does come; we're paying customers and we want cushions; do you know they call you The Soup Nazi of Malibu?

Well, we didn't say the last part, but the couple sitting next to us did, and laughed and laughed as they told story after story of the abusive treatment they've had at the hands of the cranky man.

And then we stole cushions from another set of chairs but the cranky man was happily pissing off another customer so he never noticed and we had our breakfast in peace. And, because the food is so good and abuse is addictive, went back the next day, too.
malibu kitchen

Next entry: Worse than learning there's no Santa

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