Large Coffee With A Side Of Cliche

I am a cliche. I’m currently sitting in the mall Starbucks with an iced coffee, blogging on my ipad, wearing a black t-shirt, and displaying a pretentious air of superiority to those I wrongfully label sheep, soccer mom, bro and annoying old lady. Apologies to all except the sunglassed bro guy with the “Win At All Costs!” t-shirt. Fuck that guy, right!?

I’m actually just killing time waiting for my car to be done. The Lady aka Mighty Keeper of Credit Cards will not be happy with me. My lack of timely automobile maintenance is gonna cost us, but that’s my life. Slack off for as long as I can, then pay for it dearly. Come to think of it, I’m actually slacking off right now by missing a few hours of work to take care of the car. Nice!

Some notables on my surroundings:

  • Good 90s mix on in here. Heard Pearl Jam, Pumpkins and now that Groove Is In The Heart song. Barista girl is singing along too 💃.
  • Guy next to me is speaking on his phone in Hebrew I think. I’m just guessing it’s Hebrew because he sounds just like Adam Sandler in You Don’t Mess With The Zohan. What, you’re so cultured!?
  • Alanis Morrisette is very thankful for India, frailty, terror, consequence, and silence. 90s mix remember?
  • Lots of people here change out their coffees when not satisfied. I want to strangle this woman who thought her iced coffee would be hot, but the singing barista is very accomodating.
  • Stopped to browse in Hot Topic before ending up here. Came across an Ed Sheeren t-shirt. Later I will burn down the Hot Topic. You’re welcome.

So far I’ve only burned about 45 minutes of work time sitting here. If all goes well, I’ve got 3 more hours to kill, and 2 left to bank for a later date. We get very little “emergency time” but what constitutes “emergency” is to our discretion, so enough about my company’s HR policies. Anyway, off to buy some lighter fluid.


It’s Early

It’s early. Very early for me. 5:06am. Couldn’t sleep, so I’ll try blogging. My head space for writing (if you could even call this writing) is the daydream zone. That’s where I was for awhile in bed a few minutes ago. Mulling over dreams I just dreamt until real life spoiled the fun, and I was replaying the clusterfuckery at work yesterday. So, I decided to move from bed to couch, and attempt to maintain whatever magical mental state of grace that I have assigned blogging time to.

The dream I had was odd and random. The Lady and I were in Coney Island ready to ride the famous Cyclone roller coaster, but decided to stop for drinks first. The nice gamer girl bartender brings our drinks, and says “$15.50”. I throw down $20 and she says “Oh, that was for just the one”. $15.50 for one drink!? Well we were just aghast. Aghast I tell you! That was it for the dream. Never made it to the Cyclone.

It’s quiet here sans the Indie music channel playing softly. Someone named Jamie xx is singing a trippy electronica based song called Loud Spaces. Ironic because it’s helping to create a relaxed and quiet space. Despite the title it’s very easy listening. Not my preferred genre, but it’s good to look outside the box sometimes. 

So, I can’t sleep now, but with the trippy music, and my comfy couch I’ll be sure to nod off 5 minutes before I have to get up for work. Happens all the time when I can’t sleep. I get restless in bed, come down to the couch, and screw around with WordPress or watch Sportscenter until my brain powers down right when it needs to power up. I do okay on limited sleep tho. Maybe an extra cup of coffee, and I’m good to go.

I like having the quiet early hours to myself once in awhile. It’s rare because I love to sleep until the last possible second before I need to get ready. But, when that’s not possible I take the occasional insomniatic morning as unexpected free time, and usually I feel pretty good about it despite the lack of sleep.

I feel ok now. I’ll be asleep soon, and I’ll be awake again soon. And I’ll have lots of coffee….. Soon.

The Slackers

We were awesome, pathetic, brilliant, stupid, and insane; a small group of like minded 18-22 year old slackers with empty pockets, shitty cars, and middle fingers raised. We fed off each other’s sarcasm, bathroom humor, and a healthy taste for alcohol and mild drugs. In small apartments that reeked of cheap beer and weed, we debated the prowess of Floyd and Zeppelin, and bemoaned our underpaying jobs, and self inflicted circumstances. We wished we were from the sixties, dressed like Kurt Cobain, and hid from life like Holden Cauffield. It was heaven.

The New Girl

This morning while getting my coffee and breakfast wrap at the DD drivethru I watched a young person deal with stress and the real world possibly for the first time. It was quick and fleeting, but so real and reminiscent of my own early experience in the workplace that I immediately felt a great sense of empathy, and wished I could help.

The drivethru attendant couldn’t have been more than 19 years old, and obviously on the job for maybe five minutes. She was tiny and had big blue eyes that were open wide, and frantically trying to find her point of focus. Under the traditional server’s cap, strawberry blonde curls whipped back and forth between her two stone faced middle aged male managers as they took turns dictating instructions (where to place straws, register things, etc). They obviously intimidated her, and caused her to forget to hand me my wrap after I got my coffee. 

The poor girl was obviously terrified, but was being a trooper. To her over-bearing managers all her responses were “yes” and “ok”, but you could tell her inner monologue was “omygodomygodomygod”. After a few beats she noticed me still waiting, and remembered my wrap. I wanted to tell her something reassuring to try calm her down, but with the two drill sergeants still barking orders in her face all I managed to crowbar in was “Good luck to you”, and then drove away.

What I really wanted to say was “Hey, don’t let these guys get to you. You’ll catch on. Just don’t take it too seriously.” Not really sure that would have helped either, but it might have.

It was surreal tho, like looking at a female version of myself 20 years ago. Thrust into the real world with demanding voices, alien devices and having no idea if you were going to fall flat on your face or manage to fake your way thru it, and somehow not get fired in your first week.

I have a soft spot for service workers, especially those who struggle, but try their ass off to accommodate a customer. It’s how I saw myself for a long time. I started as a twitchy nervous cashier who would hand back checks instead of receipts, and within a few months I was scanning behind my back while unsuccessfully flirting with every female co-worker in sight. I hope the new girl makes it, and I think she will. I could always spot the good ones.