A reply to “Burning down the Tea House”

I hope you’ve all read @thedevotea’s tale “Burning down the Tea House.”  It talks of scantily clad lasses, bulges in pants, a cafe that served him tea bags, and his desire to burn it down. I hope you were not taken in. It was of course, quite untrue.
To understand what really happened you must read his post first, and then my reply. Only then will you understand this story:

“Burning down the Tea House” – What really happened on that fateful day:

It was a beautiful, warm afternoon but business in the cafe was slow. A scantily clad lass working the tea bar leant on the counter waiting for punters. It was then she  first saw you, striding through the door.

“Not a real young’n anymore,” she thought to herself but then her eyes darted to your bulge. It did look promising. She licked her chapped lips, adjusted her “My name’s Sheila” tag perched on her bosom, and walked up to you.

“What’s it to be handsome fella?” she purred, face so close you could smell the Hubba Bubba cotton candy she was twisting with her tongue.
“Crickey you’re a beaut!'” you said, reaching for her hand.

Just for a second she flinched. “Never mind, there’s the bulge,” she thought and looked straight at you with her lightly bloodshot eyes.

“Gimme some tea, will ya Sheila,” you hollered, bringing your fist to the table with a thud. “Gimme the loosest, da finest two bucks can buy. Including the tip!”

Sheila’s false lashes began to twitch. Two lousy dollars. Two lousy dollars for fine tea, with tip. What a douche. A small line of pink gum juice trickled down her mouth.

“You got that? Loose tea, lassie! Ya hear me? Loose with a capital L.”  You formed an L with two fingers.

Oh, she got it alright. She got the type. They were always the same. Coming in here, big ol’ padded wallets with nothing but coins stuffed inside. They always wanted the best, the best little money could buy. And there was no tip. There never was.

“Sure Mr Tea. I got all ya ever want right here, in my tins.” She pointed to an arrangement of dusty cans kept on a shelf behind her. “It’s the best Mister, it’s the best. You’ll love it.”

“The Silver Needle,” you demanded waving your hands in the air.

“Don’t have it, sugar,” she pouted, “we’re out.” Fellas rarely asked for proof. Or course she had some, a new order from Beijing had just arrived.

“The Ginger Peach then,” you shouted, “but let me check it first.”

Funny how they always asked for Ginger Peach. ‘Course that was the tin they filled with tea bags, reserved for guys like him.
“He’s tough this one,” she realized when you did not retreat. She brewed up the tea and you drank it.

It wasn’t til she handed you the bill that you finally paled. $6.40 it said, for a bag of tea. She bit her lip, as she watched your face. She could barely stifle her giggle.

“I don’t have it,” you mumbled, fumbling in your package.

Your face turned crimson. Sheila waited, as you counted the pennies.

“2.98, Sheila, is all I got.”

At that moment, at that very moment, a beautiful lady and six firemen burst through the cafe door.

“Robert,” a stern voice said. “How did you escape again?”

You looked up. There she was. The lovely Mrs Devotea.

Mrs D turned to Sheila:

“I’m sorry sweetheart, he’s run away from the home. Restraining jackets just aren’t what they used to be.”

With that, she placed ten dollars on the table and firmly grabbed your hand.

“We’re going now Robert, back to “Inner Peace.” It’s such a pleasant place.”

“Hold on right there,” a burly voice thundered. “Not so fast. He’s not going anywhere with you!”

A firefighter, who – Sheila and Lady D couldn’t help but notice – much enjoyed working out, grabbed you by the scruff off your neck.

“He’s wanted you know, for arson. Suspected in at least six fires ’round here. We call him the Tea Bag Petrol Boy, been hunting him a long time.”

What happened after that, I do not know. Last I saw, both the fireman and Mrs D were pulling you in opposite directions, and Sheila was grabbing the money.

I’ve been told you’re locked up securely now, whereabouts unknown. I did notice bars in the background when we last “hung out.” I know you’re still writing, and I know you always will.

No, he cannot be extinguished, our Tea Bag Petrol Boy, not once he’s raging, and on fire.

  10 comments for “A reply to “Burning down the Tea House”

  1. February 21, 2012 at 7:16 pm

    I’m appalled.
    There seems to be some confusion between me and the late Mr Steve Irwin.
    I can also say that if “Sheila” had really had a line of pink drool, I would have gone elsewhere.
    And in defence of said café. the tins where immaculately dust-free. Part of lulling one into a false sense of securitea.

  2. February 21, 2012 at 7:45 pm

    What an outrage.

    This is a thinly veiled attack on one of the unsung heroes of the tea world.

    Just think if we didn’t have good people like thedevotea fighting against the inhumane and abusive treatment of tea drinkers everywhere. Most tea drinkers prefer loose-leaf tea, but will politely accept a teabag when in a social situation.

    Here we have an individual who puts his safety and sanity on the line to better our world of tea drinkers. And this is the way he’s treated? Is this really all the thanks he gets?

  3. February 21, 2012 at 7:52 pm

    Thank you, @lahikmajoe .
    An entirely sensible response.
    P.S. Does anyone know the price of petrol (or gasoline, if you prefer) in the Eastern USA?

  4. February 21, 2012 at 9:27 pm

    Another perspective on this fire issue.
    Tea shops beware and you also @Jackie.
    But @thedevotea be honest, you are overreacting sometimes, aren’t you?

    PS: @thedevotea I do.

  5. February 22, 2012 at 1:24 am

    The only righteous response would be to send the author a Lipton tea bag.

  6. February 22, 2012 at 3:27 am

    Now, now my friends. I do wonder about you all. Tea bags for the author? “Witness” you mean @jopj?
    So harsh. However, I realize you fear his wrath. He’s a wonderful man of course, couldn’t imagine a nicer man with a “petrol” can and a match.

  7. February 22, 2012 at 5:04 am

    Ah, that Jackie is clever, but she seems to not grasp the great wrong that was done our @thedevotea. The humiliation he suffered being seen drinking teabag tea. The irreparable harm of allowing that swill to become incorporated into his cells. The pain and suffering of his taste buds. The risk to his mental health caused by the deceit of the seller who promised him “whole leaf” tea in a “pyramid” teabag. I hope that our friend recovers from his ordeal. Please send that man a Tea Traveler so he need never again face such tragic circumstances.

  8. February 22, 2012 at 8:01 am

    @jackie your fearless journalism deserves a Pulitzer.
    @thedevotea‘s fearless defense of the loose leaf deserves a Nobel Prize.

    *phew*
    *considers arse covered*

  9. February 23, 2012 at 2:16 pm

    I love the way @verity aka joiedetea has covered her behind to perfection. Mission accomplished old girl! You deserve the “(Inter))national Award for Citizen Diplomacy”. Awards are apparently handed out for: “American citizen engagement in international affairs and their outstanding contributions in fostering cross-cultural understanding.”
    Not sure if we’ll ever quite achieve “Understanding” but it’s a step in the right direction..
    Of course as an Aussie, you’re not really eligible. Perhaps we can make an exception. You might receive an “honorary” award. Silver plated. xox

  10. February 24, 2012 at 10:26 am

    @verity you are not fair to @jackie and @thedevotea as both rewards don’t have the same prestige (both are well known but a Nobel is still more prestigious).

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