No matter how often he had to explain it, Marv always seemed willing to hope that just once, the waitress (as they were back then) in whatever crummy diner we were in, would actually get HOT water, and put his tea IN the pot of water before bringing it to him. Such lessons in patience as he may have imparted to me were probably most often gleaned from observing his inevitable and cheerful disappointment in this seemingly simple wish, and the lack of any retribution for the failure.
Here endeth the lesson.
Hope… springs… eternal. At least for some of us.