"Dotty? Blueberries, Dotty!"

I try not to overhear conversations people have at work despite the theme of my previous blog, but sometimes it's not possible.

I was serving a customer the other day, and he was on his cell with a woman who apparently did something horrible.

"Dotty?" he bellowed.

I almost spilled his coffee as I poured. He'd startled me.

"They pick up freezer, Dotty?"

That isn't a typo, mind you. He didn't say "the freezer." This gray-haired man in a shirt and tie was talking to someone like they were: A) non-English-speaking, or B) three years old.

He was also pronouncing "Dotty" like "Dod-dee."

"They pick up freezer, Dotty?"

Heads began to turn in his direction.

"You get my note, Dotty?"

I walked away, trying to ignore him, trying to act like I wasn't amused by his tone or his nonchalance at allowing others to hear his conversation. I couldn't tell if he was hard of hearing, but I confirmed later he wasn't wearing a hearing aid.

"The blueberries, Dotty, did you take out blueberries?"

Now the entire coffee house was listening. Blueberries were involved. How could they not want to find out what happened to them?

"On the Post-it, Dotty! I put it on the Post-it! Didn't you see the Post-it?"

Now the gray-haired man rubbed a hand over his forehead and eyes. He was in emotional distress. He looked like Harvey Keitel towards the end of The Bad Lieutenant.*

"The note said to take the blueberries out of freezer, Dotty."

He slammed his hand on the counter. Several customers nearby jumped. A sugar bowl in front of him clinked as the spoon inside flew out. Then the gray-haired man shouted his first non-Dotty statement into his phone.

"The blueberries are gone."

The blueberries were gone. All gone. He was very clear about that fact. He once had blueberries, now he didn't. It was like a Greek tragedy, except it concerned blue fruit. It was like the simple, to-the-point plot of a Lifetime movie. Tori Spelling is "Tori Johnson" in Mother, May I Buy More Blueberries?

"The blueberries are gone now, Dotty."

His statement was so devastating I saw people lower their heads throughout the house. A moment of prayer, perhaps, for the lost berries. Then he summed up.

"All gone now, Dotty. I left a note. Blueberries."

He finally hung up, rubbing his forehead. He eventually snapped himself out of his funk, and summoned me over. In a regular voice he asked for a muffin to go.

"Blueberry?" I asked.**

Ba-dum-dum.

* A movie I'm sorry I watched, btw.
** OK, I didn't say that. But how funny would that have been?