I’m sitting at Starbucks. (Doesn’t that sound like the perfect beginning to a Christian book? I’m sure I’ve begun one of my books like this. And if I haven’t, I should before the ole’ “Bucks” goes away for good.) I have my ear buds in my ears. Not because I’m trying to ignore the people around me, but in effort to NOT be tempted to eavesdrop on the very interesting conversation that is going on at the table in right next to me.
(Here’s what I learned before putting in my ear buds: Two old men are talking. One of them is the other’s lawyer. They smell rich, old and rich. The man who is not the lawyer is disgusted with his daughter-in-law. She apparently left his son and is now seeking custody of the couple’s kids and hoping to move back home to Montana. “She’s making my son look like a shit head!” he said to the lawyer, who is nodding in agreement. (Forgive me for the language, but that’s what he said!) It’s unclear to me if the lawyer is nodding because he agrees with the fact that she is making the son look like a shit head, or if he actually thinks the son is a shit head.)
That was when I realized I was being very nosey, so I put my ear buds in.
I’ve often thought that I would love to write a book called What Happens At Starbucks Gets Put In A Book. I think it would be very interesting. People will talk about anything here. And they’re not drunk. (QUESTION: Have any good Starbucks stories?)
OK, so now I’m listening to music. I’m embarrassed to admit this, but I’m listening to “Shake It” by Metro Station. Is it just me, or are you equally surprised by the fact that the man best known for “Achy Breaky Heart” and a mullet could possibly reproduce such annoyingly addictive (if not talented) children? I mean, come on. It took me forever to get Miley’s “See You Again” out of my head. That stupid line about her best friend Leslie repeated itself in my head for a month! I finally had to seek therapy. Now, I’m listening to Imogen Heap’s new song “Not Now But Soon,” which is only okay in my opinion, but it makes me feel better for liking “Shake It.”
Damn those pop hooks. They get me every time. I’m such a sucker. Don’t even get me started on that Katy Perry song.
While I type this blog, my wife is supposed to be home resting. This is her bed rest day. I know what you’re thinking, that I should be home staring at her or puffing her pillow or something else that is kind and servant-ish. And maybe I should be. But that might lead to a fight. Yeah, emotions are sort of high as we head into the final week before our due date. So that’s why I’m at Starbucks drinking black coffee.
Yep, it’s true; I drink black coffee now. Very weird. My friends will tell you; when I drink coffee I usually pick up the Starbucks sugar jar, tip it over my coffee cup, and then count to fifteen. Slowly. And then I taste it to see if it is sweet enough and adjust from there. Four weeks ago, I decided to switch to Splenda. Ugh. I can’t do artificial sweetener. It scares me. I think it tastes like crap.
So one day two weeks ago, I just passed by the “fix it” counter and decided to try drinking my coffee with nothing in it. And I sort of like it. Or at least, I’m getting used to it. Don’t laugh, but I’m cutting back on sugar because I have a crazy fear of “catching” diabetes. So true. I’m scared to death of diabetes. Not sure why. No, actually I do know why. It’s because I hate blood. I hate everything about it. Seeing it. Thinking about it. Hearing somebody else talking about it. All of those scenarios make me break out into a cold sweat. Even writing this paragraph has increased my heart rate and caused me to want to stop, drop, and roll.
If I was diagnosed with diabetes and forced to prick myself everyday, sometimes three or four times a day, I am sure that my life would turn into one long extended seizure. So yeah, no more half-cups of sugar in my grande cups of coffee. You think I’m kidding you. But anyway, I’ve also cut back on sweet stuff in general.
The only problem with all of this is that I’ve lost weight during my wife’s pregnancy. I know. I’m a horrible husband. I weigh less now than I did back in college, which would be cool if I could convince my mother that I’m not bulimic. I’ve committed the ultimate no-no.
This blog is going nowhere, huh?
(Oh my gosh! Ouch. I am not kidding you about this–a sparrow was being chased by another sparrow and in an attempt to get away from its vengeful “friend” just flew right smack into the Starbucks window. And now it’s lying on the cement ledge a few feet away from me twitching. Give me a minute while I see if I can help the poor thing… I’m not a veterinarian or a faith healer, but I’m a good poker.)
…
OK, I’m back. Yay, the sparrow lived! All I did was poke it twice with a straw and it flew happily away. I can only suppose that I saved God a little time and effort, as I’m sure it gets tiresome having to deduct sparrows from the heavenly database.
But as weird as this might sound I believe he would have. You know, because he’s God. And he cares about all that he has created.
He cares. Really cares. Sometimes I struggle to believe that. Don’t worry, I’m not going to break out into a stanza of “His Eye on the Sparrow.”
But maybe that’s why Jesus mentioned the sparrow—he knew there would be trillions of the disease-infested little birds around to remind us that God’s compassion for us is very micro.
So maybe that’s why he’s allowing 600 Starbucks locations to close down–to protect all of the sparrows that like to chirp around garbage cans and eat crumbs up off the asphalt.
I guess God doesn’t care about Starbucks. He didn’t create Starbucks.
Well, the two old men have finished talking about the interesting stuff and begun talking about golf. If it stops raining, the two of them are going to play a round. Gosh, it must suck to be old.
I guess it’s time to go check on my lovely wife. She’s probably not resting. Oh, and the Imogen Heap song is growing on me…
Pushing “publish” now…
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I believe this random act of blogness comes from a nervous father-to-be-in-a-matter-of-days.
Here’s hoping things are going smooth.
oh man do i have one, matthew! i was there the other night, and a lady had a python in a bag. everyone in starbucks had to come OUT because she was making them “uncomfortable”…so my group of friends volunteered to go in and be inside with the snake lady. she had a bag made for the snake. like all embroidered. at the same time, there was a man talkign to me and he kept calling me sabrina.
all in all, a very amusing night!
Hey Matt, who’d a thought the JJ guru would go black cold turkey. Hope you are staying slightly relaxed and that Jess is as comfortable as is possible. Here’s my fav Starbucks story of the week (well it didn’t happen this week, but I just ran across it this week!) http://improveverywhere.com/2003/03/22/the-moebius/
I was reading in Starbucks the other day. There was an awkward silence so I looked up from my book only to see the only other people in the whole cafe (I think four people) fast alseep! Like hunched over in their chairs taking serious naps! This wierd feeling came over me and I instintively gave my tall (black) coffee a sniff to check for arsenic. Nothing. Not knowing exactly what to do, I made a very loud and obvious cough/throat clearing sound – sure enough, they all stirred, and one even woke up. But that’s easily the wierdest Starbucks experience I’ve ever had.
I like your Starbucks book idea. I think it could a top seller. I love to listen to other people’s stories at S-bucks. I know it’s bad, but it’s hard not to listen!
Shake It…fan of the song. I just recenlty told my sister that I like the song. She said it would be a good aerobics song. I agreed.
Unfortunately, since I live in the boonies of Central PA, my Starbucks visits are not nearly as frequent as I would like them to be. The closest two are 10 and almost 50 miles away, respectively. I did have a lovely conversation with one of the Baristas when I was passing through the more remote Starbucks, though. I was talking about Len Sweet’s book, The Gospel According to Starbucks, and it turns out she had served with YWAM in India. We talked about the Green Apron book and she gave me her copy. It is a great little primer on service, and as I read it I mused that the church could really learn a thing or two..(or more…)I have been meaning to take it into the Sunday School class I typically go to (where we have been reading Brian McLaren, Shane Claiborne and having wonderfully transparent conversations…) and start to read from it and ask the other folks in the class what they think it is, and how we can learn from it.
Black coffee, huh? I try occassionally, but the best I seem able to do is no sweetener and skim milk. Of course, the benefit to no milk is that when Elias comes, there won’t be any white filmy stuff forming when you let it sit too long, which happens all the time due to interruptions. You will be amazed at how nowhere how fast you get caring for a newborn; things that seem like they should be quick take unbelievably long stretches of time. But it is the best!
Blessings.
Since my husband works for the company that manufactures sucralose (brand name Splenda) I feel obligated to use it. But I don’t like it, so I use a Splenda in my cofee and then add a spoonful of sugar to hide the taste of the Splenda. Every now and then I threaten to buy the pink stuff again.
I have no Starbuck’s stories but now I will be listening more closely.
Best wishes with the new baby.
my starbucks story is from a day while i worked for them in flagstaff.
end of the afternoon, and a lady walks in with two kids i think. she’s obviously not doing well and incredibly annoyed with the fact that she has to stand in line. she gets to the register and she wants a tall soy extra dry with whip cappuccino or something ridiculous like that. she doesn’t pay, just kind of moves and blocks both registers. i make the drink, walk it over to her and before i can put it on the counter, she leans towards me, hands shaking, grabs the cup and takes the lid off as fast as her hands will allow. she takes a long drink and then, seriously, i’m not exaggerating, makes an orgasm face and lets out a long moan. she has no interest in paying and letting the people in line behind her order their drinks, only in drinking hers. it was the most disgusting thing i have ever seen in my life, and she repeated the face and sound upon each sip. i had to seriously bite my tongue from saying something sarcastic to her like, “do you two need a minute or a room??” but i knew i would most likely immediately be asked to go home and not return by my manager.
Did you know that Miley Cyrus’s brother is in Metro Station.
Research more on diabetes… it’s a myth that sugar causes diabetes!
Of the four songs referenced in your post, I only knew Achy Breaky Heart when you posted it (can I emphasize…several….days ago). So I browsed on over to You Tube to hear the others and thanks to you and your blog, I now have a song stuck in MY head.
:/