Adventures At Starbucks
A couple of days ago, FW, MJ and I went down to Starbucks to get our morning salvation.
Inside there was this elderly black woman, the kind of woman you look at and just immediately assume is one of those wise old women who has wonderful old stories to share and some sort of fascinatingly wickedly fun past full of adventure and daringness and history, the kind of woman you think must be one of the last remnants of true human compassion, enlightenment, and tolerance.
She wasn’t ready to pay yet as she was searching through her bags — one of those carry-ons on wheels with the pull out handle and a stuffed-to the gills totebag — so MJ and FW went on and ordered and paid and got their coffees. She was ready right as I was stepping up, so she stepped right on up and managed to roll over my foot, but I just smiled, because she was older and I’ve been taught to have patience with my elders. Despite the two cash registers, she managed to edge me away from the counter with her bulk and baggage and by rolling over my feet another couple of times, but I just smiled and waited my turn.
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