As I waited in line for the half-n-half, 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? Get your stuff. Dump it. Move on. Right? Well, not so much.
Apparently, that task is harder than one might imagine. The person in front of me must have gone to tech 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 hunched 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 from behind which would cause him to fold, then, I could elbow him to my left, slosh some cream into my cup and slip out the side door. But no. I was in public. People were watching. 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 lament how we’re ever going to get back on schedule.
These coffee snobs are just not polite. And I am thinking I might start 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 your favorite coffee dispensary or cafe’ totally understand this personal angst.
Just my thoughts on this very nice 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.)
Let’s just keep this little rant of mine between us today, shall we?