Starbucks

I woke with a start this morning; heart pounding and skin balmy. I had an affair last night…with Brad Pitt. CRAP! I really hope my husband doesn’t find out! After I took a minute to calm down, I realized that it was just a bad dream. Or let’s just say a dream – because all things Brad Pitt are good. I had to smile to myself because I got to enjoy all the benefits of cheating on my spouse without the guilt. POOF! Brad just evaporated and I can go on with my day. Dreams are a wonderful thing, and so are nicotine patches when you accidentally leave them on overnight.

I had an award ceremony to attend for work this morning in Seattle. I had stayed overnight with a co-worker so that I could eliminate an early morning commute. The award ceremony was delightful and went off without a hitch. After the award ceremony, I was dropped off at the Coleman Dock to take the nine o’clock ferry into Bremerton where my car was patiently awaiting my arrival. However, I missed the boat. Dang! I waited for the next one, at ten, and was delighted to finally be on my way home on a nearly empty vessel.

As I parted ways with the boat, it occurred to me that I still had an hour drive ahead of me and was pretty tired. I had remembered seeing a Starbucks the day before so I high tailed it in the general direction of the coffee Mecca. With my perfectly pressed suit, designer shades, and luggage trailing behind me; I plowed through the door like I owned the place. I clip-clopped my way to the counter and fumbled with my wallet (envision this like a crack-head looking for a crumpled $20) and barely greeted the gal about to take my order before demanding a caramel macchiato. It was then that I looked up.

Mind you, the girl smiling back at me was very pretty; however, her hair seemed ‘off’. Upon closer inspection, I determined that most of her hair had to have been a wig or Jessica Simpson hairpiece. I tried not to be obvious about it but I couldn’t take my eyes off her bouffant ‘do.
Now…this is where it gets weird. As she turns to teeter over to the espresso machine I realize that she doesn’t have any pants on! Something tells me that whatever was in the apple martini I had consumed during happy hour the day before is some good stuff. I mean, really?! Pants are now OPTIONAL in the workplace?? To make things even more interesting, she was even sporting go-go boots. I mean, I thought this was STARBUCKS? Don’t they have to wear green or black polo shirts? Maybe the corporation doesn’t specify that the employees must also wear pants. Someone really screwed up the policies there....

Moral of the story: I am no longer wearing pants if the workers at Starbucks don’t have to. AND! Apple martinis are god’s single greatest creation.