That Novel I’ve Been Working On

I was having one of those days, today, where the walls feel a little like they’re closing in on me and the floors feel a lot like they’re covered in an amount of fur produced by some combination of a dog, two cats, and a wildebeest, and I was feeling sort of like I didn’t really want to deal with either problem, so I escaped to Starbucks for a little while.  I discovered this weekend while in Ottawa hanging out with my cousins that I had an extra $30 on my Starbucks card (personalized for me a few Christmases ago by my mom and which I had set to auto-reload for a while and which apparently did not STOP auto-reloading as per my instructions around the time the economy all went to crap) that I was unaware I had, so I was looking forward to a festive red cup hot chocolate purchased with FREE MONEY woo hoo!

I ordered a gingerbread hot chocolate and then observed the following conversation between the two baristas a few minutes later:

Barista #1:  Did you put the gingerbread syrup in already?

Barista #2:  Yes.  I did.  At least, I think I did. (pause) Yeah, I’m pretty sure I did.

Barista #1:  How sure are you?

Barista #2:  Really sure.  (pause) Well, pretty sure.

Barista #1:  I think I’m going to add the syrup again just in case.

Turns out, Barista #2 had in fact already added the syrup, which I did not discover until I was halfway home and took my first sip.  This hot chocolate burns going down, kind of like scotch only cheaper, slightly less disgusting, and less likely to be paired with a cigar and this week’s issue of The Economist.