Friday, April 2, 2010

Extra bubbles

So, I went into to get my daily caffeine fix this morning at the local Pete's. My turn comes up, I order the half-caf. One second, immediately thereafter, the young barista lady, in black boots, flannel and thick eye liner asks me, "do you want anything to eat with that." I look around, irritated that in the act of asking this question she is making me, and the rest of the now growing line, wait an extra second or two more for coffee. Naturally, seeing nothing edible nor affordable, I ask her, "umh, could you please place me on the, no ask list". Flustered now, orange hair parted on the wrong side, and minus her patented feather clip on hair thingy, she responds, "I have to ask you that. They make me and I have gotten in trouble for not asking in the past." So, I respond in kind, "well I have a policy as well and it states, I will have to keep asking you to place me on the "do not ask me list". Suddenly afraid of eye contact, we instead exchange plastic for paper. 'By the way", I ask, "what happened to your hair feather?" I know full well what really happend to it. A Peregrine Falcon, swooped down from the sky at 200 miles per hour, and snatched it off her hair to use for nesting material. I notice a slight narrowing of the eyes and my first, half a scrunchy face, of the morning. "Next!", she says. Taking the hint, I move off to the side and take refuge at my favorite fidget spot, right next to the captive audience working the lattes. The short manager lady with the easy smile is working there this morning trying to fix a coffee grinder with a screw driver. I feel for the screw driver. It just doesn't look comfortable in her hands. 3 seconds later, I am bored and not wanting to give up on my latest 5 minute crusade to make the world a better place for me, I say, "Hey, what you doing there? Need any help with that?" I recieve my second scrunchy face of the morning. Encouraged, I press on, "Soooo, there must be a way I can get on a do not ask list right?", she shrugs and continues to struggle fitting the screw driver into the slotted nut. 5 seconds later, I wonder why my coffee is taking so long. Sensing a secret plot is brewing between the baristas to get revenge for my earlier request, I state the obvious, "Okay I get it, I am now officially on the, do not give this guy any coffee list." The manager, mercifully, sets down the worn out screwdriver. With a quarter smile, she asks me, "What do you do for a living anyway?". Half jokingly, I tell her, "I am an imaginary trust funder who does landscape architecture on the side." At this point, I can tell she isn't believing a word I say. She gives me a, I better laugh or lose a customer chuckle. 10 seconds later the coffee arrives. I look into it and check for extra bubbles...

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