This is the jerk who refuses to drink a good old American “Cup of Joe” with the guys at work, or at the local cafe’, or even when he is out with the boys shooting pheasants on a crisp Saturday morning. Morris must always have his fancy paper cup filled with 8-bucks worth of mocha-latté-chocolatte-frappe-coronado-delicioso from one of the ubiquitous Bigbucks Foo-Foo coffee stores. Most folks have experienced that special moment when the “Barristorrio-Elegante” (better known as the coffee clerk) forgets the mocha or latte and everyone waits in line while Morris demands another go at it. A waitress at a respectable diner would have spit in Morris’s cup the moment he used a word like “latté.”
And God forbid you offer Morris a standard cup of freshly brewed coffee from your home percolator. He may sniff it, wrinkling his nose like he has just smelled poop in the cup – just before you “accidentally” dump it onto his crotch.