Saturday, January 23, 2010
The goat cheese, turkey, cucumber, and tomato sandwich in the above image was largely sourced from a morning trip to our congenial if a bit overstuffed (as in furniture, not food) farmer's market, which a talented friend of mine contrasts with that in her new home in Austin on her freshly scrubbed blog She Eats Beats.
Since you are riveted by my every food purchase, here is what went down at the Starbucks just now. An old hunched-over man was holding up the line trying to use his gift card.
"Why doesn't it work??"
The barista explained with forced cheer, "You have to register it online."
"How do I do that?"
"You have to go to starbucks.com"
"Where's that?" he blurted in a twinge of confused anger. This is how I will henceforth respond when someone directs me to a website.
"Sir, do you have a computer?" The barista was swallowing a giggle as he responded "No." There was some discussion about the 1-800 number until one of the Junior Leaguers my friend accurately depicts in her post could no longer take it and intervened.
He then performed complex chemistry with Splenda and the cocoa powder and cinnamon and whatever else they have at that little contoured table. It was the manic procedure of one clearly in over his head; turning and stirring and throwing things away, muttering. He frowned at the silver half-and-half pitcher and gave it a shake, sighing a perfectly Beckettian
and skulked off back toward the counter.
If you like this story, you will love Nico Muhly's account of trying to get a cell phone and a goddamn glass of wine in London. Caveat emptor!