- Friday, April 13, 2007
Frappa-Lappa-Mocha-Loca-Latta-chino
After placing the order with the cheery voice at the drive-thru speaker, we "drove around" to the pick-up window. The pretty girl at the window informs me that she forgot to ask the type of coffee maker I use (in order to grind the pound of beans I had requested in addition to the drinks I had ordered).While we were waiting for the coffee, we had the following conversation.
She said .: You must really like coffee, huh?
I said :. Sure. I Iove coffee.
( Seriously, I just purchased a pound of ground beans and a triple shot espresso soy latte at ten o'clock at night, and she asks me if I really like coffee.)
She said .: I really hate it! They make us try all of the drinks here so we know what the differences are.
I said :. Really... well what about vanilla latte or a frappucino? those aren't very coffee-y.
(I offered this suggestion with tremendous sincerity).
She said .: Blah. I hate it. It's just gross. They make us try EVERYTHING! I mean, we have to taste every drink so that we know what's in it.
I thought :. ...?
pero @ 7:25 PM | œ | 0 comments
What I Learned this Memorial Day Weekend
Multiple Choice Quiz (check all that apply)
x =As I finished working my double shift, I was invited to a friend's home for a Memorial Day Cookout. I felt deserving of some time to kick back and actually visit with persons in my age group and I agreed to join them. My plan was initially to stay for a beer and maybe a little food and then after an hour / hour and a half tops, head back home to sleep. Halfway into my first beer (yes, I did stay longer than orignally planned) two women from up the street appeared, and then the small get-together started to look like a party. A phone call was made, another couple showed up. A husband of one of the two women soon joined us, with two more kids. I ate alot of food, visited and felt relaxed for a change. It was good fun, the type holidays are supposed to bring to mind.
(*) A. Some burned food.
(*) B. Burned fingers.
(*) C. Mostly good food, not enough ICE.
(*) D. Good food, fight over basketball game.
The other thing I learned is, working a doubleshift, then drinking beer and eating a LOT of heavy food... causes cryptic dreams that one can only remember in fragments. In one, I was sitting in a room of a friend from high school (at his parent's home as it was then). We had all just been out in the neighborhood, and my friend and his other buddies (I did not know them) had killed a guy. They were sitting around getting their story straight and had threatened to kill me if I ratted them out.
In the other, I was cooking chicken seasoned with coffee grounds.
Labels: Dreams, food, idiots, people
pero @ 1:57 PM | œ | 0 comments
