Afternoons at Starbucks
I'm at Starbucks today, where I just got my free drink with my rewards membership. This rewards membership is the best thing ever and a master stroke of loyalty marketing. Last year I tripped all over myself trying to get 30 stars so I could get the gold card, and now I live for the days where I get enough stars to get a free drink. You know why? Cause when I have a free drink I don't get my normal skinny caramel latte. When I have a free drink I splurge on a VENTI SKINNY CARAMEL LATTE WITH AN EXTRA SHOT. Which today I learned they call a TRIPLE VENTI.
I now feel very hyped up, and it's awesome, and I'd do it all the time if it wasn't like $6 a pop. This makes me think that if it were easier to get drugs, maybe I'd do it. Who knows??
Being hyper like this reminds me of being a preteen, and how my friend Katie believed orange foods had a chemical impact on her mood. She'd shove Cheetos in her face and laugh maniacally, and I thought it was the best thing ever. Later we'd steal a roll of chocolate chip cookie dough out of her mom's refrigerator, cut it in half, and go jump on her trampoline, trying not to choke on bites of delicious goo from our cookie dough tubes.
What happened to my youth?
There are always interesting people in any coffee shop. I always feel it's a slight miracle that I'm free at 1:30 on a Tuesday afternoon to go "work on my computer" at Starbucks, so I wonder how all these other people get this miracle, too. Some of them are students, some of them are having meetings, but a lot of them seem to just be working on their own things. A sign of the times, I suppose. I'm just one of the masses.
Two ladies sit down next to me, probably in their 60s or 70s. I try not to look at people who sit next to me – I don't want them to know I've noticed they're there. That makes it easier to eavesdrop on their conversations. But I can tell they're older because of their shoes and calves, the stocky, orthopedic nature of which I can see out of the corner of my eye.
Their conversation is entirely medical for the hour and a half they're there.
"I finally got into my new doctor, and she was appalled that they didn't send me to a cardiologist."
"I gave the mother of the GP that I go to now a list of tips for her garden."
"'You have gallstones,' I said to her.
'I DO NOT!'
[they both laugh]
'She did so, she had a whole bunch of them.'"
"I don't want somebody workin' on me who thinks they're God."
"We have to move the table so I can bend my knee to get out."
The way older people talk about medical concerns is remarkably similar to the way the women in their thirties I know talk about babies. Get a group of them together and the conversation inevitably heads that way, whether you have medical problems / kids or not, because it's always a looming issue for those age groups. I realize I'm comparing kids to medical problems, but bear with me.
"I just don't know if I want to have [that procedure] / [kids.]"
"He's been so busy since [his kidney surgery] / [kids.]"
"When am I supposed to have time for [doctors' checkups] / [kids?]"
"You just don't know what it's like until you have [health problems] / [kids.]"
"[This illness] / [kids] are really impacting my quality of life."
"You just won't know love until you've had [a chronic illness] / [kids.]"
Okay, I guess you could substitute a lot of things in those sentences.
The woman to the right of me is having a nervous breakdown to her coworker. Her job sucks, her boss is unsupportive, she has to always be a "team player."
"What should I do?" she asks him.
"I'm not sure..." He's at a loss.
I want to tell her "QUIT YOUR JOB AND DRINK LATTES ALL DAY."
I now feel very hyped up, and it's awesome, and I'd do it all the time if it wasn't like $6 a pop. This makes me think that if it were easier to get drugs, maybe I'd do it. Who knows??
Being hyper like this reminds me of being a preteen, and how my friend Katie believed orange foods had a chemical impact on her mood. She'd shove Cheetos in her face and laugh maniacally, and I thought it was the best thing ever. Later we'd steal a roll of chocolate chip cookie dough out of her mom's refrigerator, cut it in half, and go jump on her trampoline, trying not to choke on bites of delicious goo from our cookie dough tubes.
What happened to my youth?
There are always interesting people in any coffee shop. I always feel it's a slight miracle that I'm free at 1:30 on a Tuesday afternoon to go "work on my computer" at Starbucks, so I wonder how all these other people get this miracle, too. Some of them are students, some of them are having meetings, but a lot of them seem to just be working on their own things. A sign of the times, I suppose. I'm just one of the masses.
Two ladies sit down next to me, probably in their 60s or 70s. I try not to look at people who sit next to me – I don't want them to know I've noticed they're there. That makes it easier to eavesdrop on their conversations. But I can tell they're older because of their shoes and calves, the stocky, orthopedic nature of which I can see out of the corner of my eye.
Their conversation is entirely medical for the hour and a half they're there.
"I finally got into my new doctor, and she was appalled that they didn't send me to a cardiologist."
"I gave the mother of the GP that I go to now a list of tips for her garden."
"'You have gallstones,' I said to her.
'I DO NOT!'
[they both laugh]
'She did so, she had a whole bunch of them.'"
"I don't want somebody workin' on me who thinks they're God."
"We have to move the table so I can bend my knee to get out."
The way older people talk about medical concerns is remarkably similar to the way the women in their thirties I know talk about babies. Get a group of them together and the conversation inevitably heads that way, whether you have medical problems / kids or not, because it's always a looming issue for those age groups. I realize I'm comparing kids to medical problems, but bear with me.
"I just don't know if I want to have [that procedure] / [kids.]"
"He's been so busy since [his kidney surgery] / [kids.]"
"When am I supposed to have time for [doctors' checkups] / [kids?]"
"You just don't know what it's like until you have [health problems] / [kids.]"
"[This illness] / [kids] are really impacting my quality of life."
"You just won't know love until you've had [a chronic illness] / [kids.]"
Okay, I guess you could substitute a lot of things in those sentences.
The woman to the right of me is having a nervous breakdown to her coworker. Her job sucks, her boss is unsupportive, she has to always be a "team player."
"What should I do?" she asks him.
"I'm not sure..." He's at a loss.
I want to tell her "QUIT YOUR JOB AND DRINK LATTES ALL DAY."