“I’m upset about drones,” John complained.

“Tell me about it,” replied waitress Beverly, “I spend my whole day with them in here.”

“You have a bee problem?” I asked.

“No, just the incessant drone of half-alert customers wanting this, demanding this, complaining about that,” Beverly shook her head as she poured two cups of the daily coffee special Papa New Guinea Sigri.

“No, not bees. And I’m not talking about boring people,” John muttered. “It’s all those tiny robot aircraft things swooping around.”

“Oh, you mean those UAVs that Amazon wants to deliver small packages to your home,” I nodded. “Like pizzas.”

“They’re terrifying my dog,” John groaned.

“Yes, some businesses are using drones to send cakes to birthday parties,” Beverly recalled.

“Worse, now they’re used to transport drugs,” John alerted.

“Wait a minute,” I cautioned, “you’re forgetting the positive role of drones. TV stations and networks want them to report news stories.”

“You mean like shots of floods?” Beverly asked as she refilled our cups.

“They’ve already got fixed aircraft to do that,” John countered.

“And you can see fires,” I added.

“Big deal. Helicopters are doing that now,” John argued.

“Well, what about tracking tornadoes?” Beverly thought.

“You can see those from surveillance cameras on high buildings or film them with your smart phone,” grunted John. “Besides you should be in your basement hiding during a tornado.”

“We can watch high-speed chases on highways easier,” Beverly suggested. “That’s always cool.”

“Or one more video of a roof top during a celebrity divorce or drug bust.  Just another excuse to spy on Kim Kardashian,” John noted sarcastically.

“There are many other ways to use drones,”  I mentioned. “Farmers can monitor their fields for security and check on disease and growth progress.”

“Well…”

“Officials can use drones to keep any eye on wildlife—especially endangered species,” Beverly added.

“But…”

“And drones could expand the use of Internet service to remote areas,” I noted.

“Ok, ok, enough all ready,” John gave up. “I’m still getting a gun.”

“What!” Beverly and I looked at each other.

“Any drone comes near my house I’m blasting it out of the air,” John threatened. “Meanwhile, give me a latte to go.”

“I’ll drone it over to you sometime soon,” Beverly retorted.

“That’s how you’ll get your tip, too,” John stormed out.

“And we just keep droning on and on and…,” I shook my head.