As I poured my cup of coffee from the large urn that sat on the white cloth covered table outside the sanctuary doors, I suddenly realized there was a line for the cream and sugar.

A line? How hard can it be to add cream and sugar I thought?


Apparently, harder than one might imagine.  The person in front of me must have gone to med school or, at least, he definitely took chemistry.  Each container and packet was carefully opened. One at a time. Then each was methodically stirred into the hot ever-changing brew.


As the steam seeped over his shoulder, his hunch back only showed the intense form with which he utilized to maintain the concentration needed for this very special and precise formula.


At this point? I was ready to tap his knees lightly and make him fold, elbow him to my left, slosh some cream into my cup and slip out the side door. But no. I was at church. I would have to behave. 


Not an easy task when all you want is your cup of joe, and the guy in front of you has some Emeril Lagasse complex.  It was painful to say the least.


Call me crazy, but when people get to the cream and sugar station, something strange overtakes them. Have you ever noticed that they suddenly forget that anyone else is in the building, let alone the vicinity?  They measure and pour and stir. Then consider and begin the entire process again while 28 of us behind them frantically check our watches (or cell  or PDAs) and try to get back to our schedule.


These coffee snobs are just not polite. And I am thinking I might begin a “Hey, there’s a boat load of us behind you. Get it together and move on.”  campaign.  (Do you think that might be a bit over the top?)  Those of you who frequent Starbucks totally understand this personal angst.


Just my thoughts on this very cold day, when my elixir of the gods is getting cold while the unsuspecting space cadet in front of me gets the perfect color and taste combination as I patiently wait contemplating whether or not I’d personally be happy to offer him one lump or two. (Whew! Got that off my chest.)


Not very spiritually profound, but honest,