It’s another glorious day and as a prize, I usually head to Starbuck’s at 3:00pm for a Skinny Pumpkin Spice Latté. Yes, I know that it’s not “really” skinny because they don’t have the sugar free liquid gold, but none the less I get it for all the hard work I do all day. This day, was no different. I didn’t get a chance to hit Starbuck’s until almost 3:30pm. A crime indeed! Every time I go into the place I get the same thing, at least for this season, the Skinny Pumpkin Spiced latte. They know me so well that the servers in the back are already starting to make the concoction as soon as they see me in line. I am on a first name basis with my barista. Like so sort of mind meld! How uncanny! They know what I want before I even get to hand them my card! It’s a great feeling. Like being someone important!
So here I am at 3:30pm standing in line and the usual barista is standing taking orders with a forlorn face.
“Can I get a tall, skinny, Pumpkin Spice Latte?” A grimace came across her face.
“We have a new Peppermint Mocha Hot Chocolate now.” She suggested.
“Nah, not into Peppermint. Are you telling me you are out of Pumpkin?” I replied.
“No, we still have pumpkin. But we won’t have it forever. I thought you might want to switch things up. It’s new. Really popular.” She leaned in as if to give me some private information.
“Thanks for the suggestion. I will stay with the pumpkin spice.” I stood firm.
“Are you sure? We also have a new Gingerbread Latte…” Her eyebrows raised in hoping anticipation.
“Pumpkin Spice is fine. When you run out I will change.” I repeated.
“OK. Just trying to give you heads up.” She said as she she retreated to begin to work and staring me down like I was going to pull a knife or something.
“Pumpkin Spice. That’s it. Thanks.” I forced a smile.
What has happened? Are our biorhythms off? Why the change? I can’t. I don’t wanna! Most normal people will begin to paint a picture of me as an elderly curmudgeon living the same as he has since the 1950’s or 1940’s. I wasn’t born until the late 1960’s. It is true that I have the same breakfast every morning. The chief knows, I don’t have to tell him. “The usual?”
“Yup, thanks.” My drinks at the bar, the bartenders know me. I always order the same, “The usaual?”
“Yep, thanks.” I know that life is about change, and I know that my petitie, brunette, barista is only doing her job by suggesting new options. I don’t like change. Too many things change any way too quickly. If I can hold on the “normal” for a little while longer, kicking and screaming, I will. Sorry barista girl, maybe next time I will learn.