That was fun, While it lasted.

Recently one of my coworkers gave us a note pad. It was on a little pallet. It was a nice gesture, but how do you move a tiny pallet of paper around on a desk? A forklift was out of the question, and a pallet moving device (pallet jack) is too big. Fortunately Dr, Dawg had a device to shrink things. Now we are set, as soon as we have a volunteer to shrink to a size that fits our needs. Interested?

Having a brand new notepad is a liberating experience. No longer are you shackled by the requirements of polite conversation. Unbound by social mores and values that have been in place since the days of dueling you are able to tell people what they need to hear.

Finally, we can tell the other people how we truly feel. "Nice tie, Joey, did you get it at the Big and Tasteless Shop?" That guy is a slob. "Nice presentation, Alicia, next time maybe you could use a megaphone and really cause some pain." Alicia can drone on for hours, and has a voice once used at Gitmo, but it was too inhumane. "No, Bob, nobody wants to hear about your head cold, or your asthma, or your wet, recurrent cough, sprained ankle or the wart looking thing on your foot." That guy is a walking bag of disgusting ailments and symptoms.

Finally, we were freed of the restraints, the chains had been cast aside. The Company was going to be a much happier place, thanks to our little notepad. People would begin to understand the jerks they had become. It was power, a gift, and we were not going to waste it.

Yesterday we came in and our notepad was gone. In its place was this greeting card.

Well, that stinks, now we have to go find a way to have a nice day without our notepad. Trust us, when Becky tells you to have a nice day, you have a nice day, no matter how much is sucks.

Once more, with feeling

It is time for action, we are headed out for a few last gifts.  Need to hydrate, carboload.  Coffee, and donuts, anyone.  Just kidding, we are having coffee, and cinnamon raisin toast.  It is vital to stay a little hungry.  Don't get weighed down.  Sure, bacon is great, but the few milliseconds it shaves off your reflexes could be the difference between coming home with the perfect gift, and coming home with a cast.  OK, if you are out shopping you are not looking for the perfect gift, you are just hoping to find something halfway decent.

Perhaps you are a thrill seeker.  Nothing like shopping on Christmas Eve to let you know you are alive.  Crowds, violence, vicious bargain grabbers, armed with the desperation provided by the need to get one more thing.  It is invigorating.

It could be procrastination.  Wait until the last minute.  Don't worry, oh ye delayers of the inevitable.  Walgreen's is open midnight.  Everybody on your list needs AAA batteries, decongestants, a pack of bandaids, or acid reflux medicine.  Practical, efficient, gifts, everybody loves them.

Either way, finish your shopping today.  Few stores are open tomorrow.  And they are proud of it,  Closed on Christmas, so our associates can spend the day with their families."  Oh, the caring, the giving.  They really understand.   

Well, off to gird up my loins, whatever that means, and face the world of Pre Christmas Retail.  It reminds me of the line from Heat Treatment, by Graham Parker;

"Out in the jungle there's a war going down,

You wind up eating all the new friends you found." 

Christmas music, at it's finest. 

I will post an update when I get home.  If I don't make it, know that I adore all of you, and I was out shopping for your gift, and it was fantastic.

Buyer Beware, the language of coffee.

Last night my wife gave me a Starbucks gift card.  This made me very happy, because there is a delightful little game we play at Starbucks when I stop in to buy coffee. 

“I would like a medium coffee, black, please.”   I say with a touch of a smile lighting my face.

“You want a Grande, Bold, no room for cream.”  They offer, a little anger pretending to foam from their mouth.

I look thoughtfully at the counter person, and pretend to think about their offer, earnestly, sincerely.  And say, “that sounds great, but this morning, I will just stick with a medium coffee, black.  Thank you, though.”

At this point the person at the cash register feigns disgust, and says “that is what a Grande, Bold is” and acts a little angry.

“Great, thank you so much.”  I say politely, with all of the gratitude only Friday can give.

This morning was even better, because I had an old gift card with a balance, and Starbucks hates to share the balance with the owner of the card, it is their little secret.  And there was only 10¢ on the card.  She really pretended to be upset by this.  “There is only TEN CENTS on this card, you still OWE ME!!!!” 

“I have this one, and it is brand new.”   I tried to remove it from the cardboard display, and she was not going to wait around for that sort of nonsense.

"I can do it with that still on."  She pretended to whisper "damn you."  I pretended not to hear.

She finishes the transaction and says “here is your coffee, have a nice day, jerk.”

I love Friday at Starbucks.  It feels like home.  But I have teenagers living there.