“Just a glass for water, please.”
It is a phrase so simple in it’s simpleton-like simplicity that no cash register clerk ever reads into it. It is a phrase that I throw out so innocently, that my warm nature never causes anyone to question my intentions. It is a phrase that I utter with such convincing “I’m doing this all-water diet right now” attitude that the powers that be (i.e. restaurant managers) never see me coming, and never realize when I’m gone.
Yes, I’m the Master of asking for a water glass then sneaking free soda.
First and foremost, don’t skewer the Master for taking advantage of a flawed system. That would be like punishing a dog for eating food he found on the floor, or yelling at a child for falling asleep in Church just because the option was available to him. It’s like taking a man who was raised by apes into a city and then expecting him to act like a normal, civilized human being.
As the Master of asking for a water glass then sneaking soda, people often wonder if there was a progression. For example, did I once just ask for a water glass and drink water? And then one day, while drinking water out of the water glass, did I see an annoying kid who didn’t know any better take his water glass to the soda fountain in an attempt to just get water, and then see the orange soda receptacle sitting right next to the water spout and just decide to take orange soda instead? Or was it the day when the Master noticed that the water came out of the same spout as the Iced Tea spout and that no one would ever notice what was coming out as long as he kept his back to them?
Was the progression quick, did it involve a thought process, or did instinct just take control?
Either way, I no longer ask the questions of my origins. For what good will it do me? Does an arsonist ask himself what one single moment caused him to be an arsonist? No, he embraces his talent, no matter how evil.
As do I.
Evil or not, I have grown to challenge my Master-like skills to the point of ridiculousness. Now, you may find me at the front register of a Cici's Pizza or at our very own nest asking for five water glasses (for my friends), then stand unintimidated at the soda fountain filling up five separate glasses with five separate syrup/carbonated water combinations like Diet Coke, Coke, Minute Maid Orange, Iced Tea and Fruit Punch. As the Master, no one challenges me, no one bothers me, and no one asks me to regurgitate any liquids after I’ve already downed ‘em.
The Master remains unscathed by the management of society’s better-known food establishments.
Sure, sometimes when it’s late at night and it’s dark outside and most of the world is quiet and sleeping…I think about what I’ve done. I think about the evil I have thrust upon the medium-fast food restaurant establishments of society. I think, for a split second, of the fortunes I’m stealing from extremely wealthy medium-fast food restaurant owning families. But then I ask myself a question.
“If what I do is so wrong, why have they not yet caught me?”
And I feel a whole lot better.
Because if you’re good at something evil… And people never stop you… Doesn’t that make you the best at what you do? Doesn’t that make you superior? Doesn’t that make you…the Master?
Which I am.
Of asking for a water glass and then sneaking free soda.