So, in today’s Part Two installment of Starbucks Coffee – now with Crack (part one), we catch up with our hero, late to work again, hung over from too much caffeine yesterday and subsequently being up all night, only to stop at the same Starbucks, with the famed orange mug in hand.

I walk in today, there’s no sign of Señora Psychopath. This gives me mixed feelings, because, from the safety of the outside counter, it was fun to watch her caffeine-induced tick as she talked to my coffee mug yesterday, but on the other hand, I’m a little glad that I don’t have to waste any of my two hour’s sleep on figuring out if she’d actually harm me.

“House coffee with room, please.” I try not to sound like I just rolled out of bed.

While the barista takes the cup and turns around to fill it with heaven’s nectar, from nowhere appears the strangely composed version of the young woman from yesterday. If I hadn’t just been peering into it, I would have thought she crawled out of the pastry case. Remember “The Sidler” episode of Seinfeld? There you go.

“Good morning!” in her normal chipper voice. “Morning” is my mumbled reply. It is, after all, only the sixth word I’d spoken today. She went about the regular coffee shop duties, with no indication that she’d completely freaked us all out yesterday. Confounded, I’m thinking once she sees the shiny coffee mug it’s all over, so when her coworker turns around and sets the mug on the counter I bristle with anticipation.

Guys know this feeling, as it’s the same feeling we had as kids when we finally managed to get the spider into the jar and drop in a grasshopper. “This is gonna be so cool…” is all that runs through our minds.

Similar to that continual childhood disappointment, nothing happened. No glazed over eyes, no holding the mug aloft or showing to customers in the drive thru. Nothing. Okay, I decide maybe she didn’t see it – so I spin it slowly as I put the lid on it, trying to reflect the track lighting in the place.

It catches her eye.

She inhales to say speak, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Watch out world, here it comes! Welcome to Crazyville!

“Oh, that’s a cool mug.”

Using her inside voice, her pupils didn’t dilate, no cup held aloft. She couldn’t be any more calm. The only even remotely weird thing is that the way she said it suggested that it was the first time she’d ever seen it.

But, I guess, on some levels, it probably was.