I have a really bad habit. I'm not too proud to admit it. Every morning on my way to work, I pass Starbucks, and every morning, I stop to order a latte of some sort, non-fat of course. I can't help it. It's there calling my name like a heroine addiction. Every morining, the drive-thru line is backed up into the street, blocking the entrance for those of us who want to park our cars and go inside to get our coffee, or in my case, lattes. (Here's a little secret for those of you in the drive-thru line: there are usually two registers open inside and only a couple of people in line.) So, back to my story, every day before I head in to work, I fight all the other Starbucks addicts to get my daily fix.
That is, until today. On my way to work today, I turned into Starbucks and (gasp) pulled right up to the empty drive-thru window. And you may be thinking that all the other people had simply been clued in to my little Starbucks secret, but the parking lot was empty, at 7:53 on a Monday morning. Naturally, I did what any semi-neurotic person would do: is there some holiday that I don't know about, is it really 6:53 instead of 7:53, is it Sunday instead of Monday, was there some huge natural disaster that happened and only Starbucks survived, did the Rapture happen in reverse, or maybe, just maybe, did Starbucks stop adding heroine to their espresso?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment