Why are you talking to me?

I don't look like the most approachable person. This is by design, as I don't like people. When in public I generally maintain a permanent facial expression that perfectly balances exasperation, anger, and the appearance that I'm completely OK with that. Under normal circumstances this is usually enough to make sure that I am left well alone and causes the more social of the species to wither and retreat. This effect is apparently lost when standing in line at Dunkin' Donuts. 

It's a Saturday morning, so to walk into Dunkin' Donuts and expect it to not be crowded would be like walking into a lion's den with Lady Gaga's meat dress on and expecting not to be eaten. The line is about 6 people deep when I walk in. As is usual in these situations I stand in line and generally ignore everything going  on around me. My body has been programmed to maintain adequate personal space and maintain this bubble when standing in line, so it moves forward as necessary with little to no prompting. While I'm pondering the Captain America paraphernalia around the shop, I realize someone is talking to me. 

"...and I don't know why I keep coming in here on Saturday mornings. I mean, it's always so crowded. You'd figure that if they saw this many people were standing in line they'd open another register."

It's a short woman who appears to be in her late 60s. I involuntarily fix her with the "you've just awoken the sleeping giant" look, and quite literally growl out "There are only 2 registers. They're both open."

"Well if they'd just move their coffee display over there would be enough room to put in another register. I swear I say this every Saturday."

I reply with all due sarcasm,"So I'll get the same show if I come back next Saturday? When does the new material start?"

"I should probably stop talking now."

"Yes. You should."

She then goes silent for about 30 seconds and begins her show over again with whoever came in after her.