Do I really look drunk? Or juvenile?

I have a travel mug I use for coffee at work. A co-worker gave it to me after I complained about wanting a travel mug but not wanting to pay $10 for one, which was the cheapest I could find. She said she just had too many at home. Lidded travel mugs with a stoppable sip hole (for lack of better terminology; I'm way tired) are nearly a must for me since when I am not actively drinking, the cup is sitting on my cart among my books and moving the cart can cause a lot of spillage and therefore damage to the books.

Well I knocked my travel mug over twice today while it was on my cart. Once when it was empty and once when I had two clearance books on it. Because it has a stoppable sip hole this should not have been a problem, expect the coffee was really really hot (I have an ugly red bump on my tongue as proof) and I left the hole open so it wouldn't trap in all the heat. This means the coffee spilled out everywhere. Twice.

The second time it fell over was because I ran a cart wheel into the little rubber mat that sits in from of the water fountain and the mug took a tough spill. It jarred open the seal I had created when I closed the mug hours earlier, I just didn't know it yet. After I cleaned it up I went back to the buying area to reload my cart. I was talking to our assistant manager Earl and took a sip of my coffee, which had successfully cooled off to a pleasantly sippable temperature.

Well. The stoppable sip hole was stopped, yet coffee was coming through. And it was dripping from the seam of the cap. Down the body of the mug. Onto my hand. Onto my shirt.

I didn't even realize it until I looked down and saw drops of coffee on my cart again. Earl had seen it all. He saw the confused look on my face.

"Nora, what did I tell you about drinking vodka at work?"

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Not too long after that, I had just gotten off the phone with a customer who requested we hold a book for her. I turned and headed back to the buying area, where I was assigned to spend two hours buying books from our customers. I crossed paths with an older gentleman, maybe in his sixties or seventies. I smiled at him and he smiled back. Before I could ask him if he needed help finding anything, he asked me: "So, turning sixteen soon?"

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I am so glad that it's almost bedtime.