My daughter, Nikki, is sick today, so I’m over at her house taking care of things. And since my two-year-old grandson, Clayton, is still sleeping, I have just enough time to write this post before he wakes up.
Clayton awake and catching up on some e-mails.
But trying to write away from my normal writing places (standing at my kitchen counter or sitting at my computer) feels weird.
Kind of like when you were a kid all comfortable in your favorite spot on the davenport (1950′s speak for couch) watching cartoons and you got up to scrape some frost from the 1950′s refrigerator freezer to nibble on while you finished watching Huckleberry Hound and one of your brothers takes your spot – which you swear you told them you were saving when you got up to get the frost – but now you’re brother’s got your spot and you just have to accept it or you’re going to miss the rest of Huckleberry Hound’s Hound Dog Howdy!
Kind of like that, anyway, but not exactly, of course.
I’ve often thought it might be a good idea to get up early and schlep to Starbucks and try writing my blog from there.
But the last time I was in Starbucks, I perused the room for an out-of-the-way comfy spot from which to write, but all they have in there now are wooden chairs as cushy as cold steel. Probably to discourage Ne’er-Do-Welling.
Plus I don’t like Starbucks anyway just on the priciple of the thing. You see, I refuse to say “Venti” for large and I refuse to say “with room” instead of saying - with cream. I’m difficult like that. I won’t speak Starbucks! I won’t! I won’t! I won’t!
Last time I was at Starbucks the conversation went exactly like this:
Me: “I’d like a large coffe with cream.”
Tastefully Tattooed Starbuck’s Girl w/Diamond Studded Nose: “You want a Venti with Room?”
“Yes, a large coffee with cream.”
“So you want a Venti with Room.”
“Yes, a large coffee with cream.”
“I can give you a Venti with Room for Cream. You will have to put the cream in it youself. Nitwit. (Nitwit part was implied.)
“Uh huh. Oh, and I’ll also take one of those cinnamon rolls too.”
“So one VENTI with ROOM and one MORNING ROLL?”
They never give up these people!
I have never, ever ordered at Starbucks where the clerk didn’t correct me by repeating the order back to me in “Starbuck Language” as though they were giving me a little lesson on how it’s supposed to be done . . . sigh. . .
Can I help it if I can’t afford to buy the Starbuck’s Rosetta Stone? Hey! I’ll have to remember to say that next time I’m at Starbuck’s. That’ll get ‘em!
Ah! I think I hear Clayton. Better get him out of his crib, I wouldn’t want him to get behind on his e-mails.
Until next time . . . I love you
Mom, I completely understand where you are coming from. I often order a small coffee and get corrected with “a tall?” Why is a tall a small? Stop trying to be so cute Starbucks. It makes you look desperate.
Obviously the people who work there are sucking down the Starbucks Koolaid faster than you can say a triple skinny sugar free vanilla no foam latte with room. Saaaaaaaay I’m pretty fluent in Starbucks! Who knew I spoke a second language.
One thing I forgot to mention, I find it funny how such comfortable pastimes such as scraping off the ice chucks to suck while watching cartoons can be so comforting. But in my case it sucking the wrapper of a butter stick while drinking a frosty glass of water from a half open bell pepper while watching Hey Dude.
I can’t wait until you start your blog! I’m going to die laughing. Well, maybe not die, but I’m at least going to near death experience die laughing!