Assisted Procrastination

Because of my primal dislike of cilantro, I was sad to learn that this “herb” has been recently discovered and embraced by Don Pablos. They are by no means an authentic Tex-Mex restaurant, but a satisfactory option offering a welcome & necessary flavor on the menu of chain restaurants. I guess now I either have to find a new chain (Rio Grande isn’t bad at all) or get picky with my food (“No guac, no cilantro, extra sour cream, no-fat, half-caf, double soy, don’t you just hate me? . . .”) Too bad picky tends to leave customers also picking out the dirt from their annoying and complicated custom requests.

I Hate Cilantro

While I agree with the sentiment of the site (COMPLETELY agree), I’m concerned at the number of people who appear to have, at some point, tasted soap not only on its own, but on a variety of inedible items. Maybe they should consider being less picky in restaurants. Still, I think the site is quite enjoyable and brings a welcome smile.

My husband is again on the hunt for some land in the country. I enjoy the coast and relatively short access to the beach/water. He’d like to have a garden for some veggies and some cows for slaughtering. If you know me, you know I’m not a “crops & cattle” kind of girl. I accept this. So when I saw this plot of land, I knew it would be perfect. Lots of land with open grassy areas, other areas of uncleared trees, AND it’s waterfront. Absolutely perfect! What more could we want?

Random Land

(Thank you again to Offbeat Earth for the treasure trove of blog-fodder.)

I am not a morning person by any stretch of the imagination. I have my routine and I do it well – just leave me alone. I’ve previously mentioned my need for coffee to kick-start the day. I could probably live without it, but prefer not to. I also prefer a specific Caribou Coffee not far off my typical route to work. It has a drive-through window which saves me a bit of time and effort in the morning. Typically, I reserve this stop as a personal treat maybe once a week.

Today, I had an early meeting and thought it would be beneficial for all if I had my shot of caffeine prior to any professional interactions. This is my career, after all. Traffic on Wednesdays is particularly brutal so I left early and endured the stuttered drive in, all the while knowing I would have my liquid adrenaline before I had to actually interact. Boy was I in for a shock.

1. It seems there’s a new girl working the drive-in.
2. She’s a morning person.

Now, it’s quite possible that her mornings just begin well before mine so she’s into her own personal “afternoon” by the time I roll through, but in my world it’s barely past 8am. I knew when I placed my order that this was going to be rough. It wasn’t anything that she said, just the fact that she said SO MUCH beyond what was necessary for the transaction (Large Campfire Mocha, please) and she did it in the same tone and volume as a cheerleader kicking off a high school football game. I was *never* fond of cheerleaders.

Don’t get me wrong. She was great. Everything you’d want in a customer service rep any other time of day. When I made it to my turn at the window, she smiled, asked about me and my morning, wished me a heart-felt great day, and said she’d see me again soon. While awaiting my turn in line, she even went so far as to strenuously lean out her window almost into the van in front of me just to wave at the little kid in the backseat (this was another sign the interaction was going to be more than I’d bargained for at that hour).

I am typically quite polite when interacting with the customer service industry. I’ve done my time there and I know customers can suck. I don’t want to be the sucky customer who ruins the day for the customer behind me. For this very reason, I went against my natural instincts to strangle the life out of her – savoring her last gasps for air just before sipping the mini marshmallows off my coffee. While it may have made me feel much better to follow my instincts, I know that listening to the little voice telling me just to smile politely through the experience kept me from ruining the day for the guy in the car behind me.

Is it too much to ask of customer service to respect the morning hours? Maybe we can develop a universal sign identifying those folks who are eager to have those extra special interactions. Those of you who are morning people, I suggest you climb out your windows and wave at the folks inside. The rest of us should just be left to ease into our days in our own ways.

I need my coffee in the morning so it’s a good thing I also *like* my morning coffee. I’m a sucker for a mocha. A good one – not an overgrown hot chocolate with a shot of nasty coffee. Stabucks makes a tolerable mocha, but they’re expensive and inconveniently located for my morning routine. All that, and their coffee tastes burnt. Starbucks always finds it necessary to ask if I want whipped cream on my mocha (if it’s part of the drink and I don’t want it, I should be the one to request its exclusion) and they recently forced me onto a diet by changing from whole milk to 2%. I don’t need to be on a diet and I certainly don’t need a corporate giant dictating such decisions out of “courtesy.”

For all those reasons and then some, I enjoy Caribou. I especially enjoy their “Campfire Mocha.” With its chocolate, marshmallow, whipped cream, chocolate shavings, and ACTUAL mini marshmallows (by far the BEST part), I’m happy to go a little out of the way for a cup. The one near work even has a drive-thru making them far more convenient. To top it off, Caribou has a daily trivia discount and they’re cheaper than Starbucks.

Today was a teacher workday, so I took the day off and The Kid and I spent the day doing mother/daughter “stuff” together. Unfortunately, the day began with a trip to the school to meet with the VP and the Teacher. The subject matter was unpleasant (a bully gone physical), but in the end was a relatively painless experience for all (for now). I hope this will be the last time the subject will need to be addressed.

Unpleasantnesses out of the way, we proceeded to easing into the adventures that laid ahead and quickly moved on to coffee. Lucky for me, The Kid also prefers Caribou and for excellent reasons! Their version of a “kid’s hot cocoa” is made in a “small” 16oz cup (Starbucks is 8oz), it’s served at a kid-friendly and immediately drinkable temperature, costs less, and includes oreo cookie bits sprinkled on top of the whipped cream. What more could a kid want?

After picking up our beverages (I even got the trivia question right!), we headed out for the day’s festivities. Imagine my surprise at our exchange in the car about 5 minutes into the trip:

The Kid: Did they have these when you were a kid?

Me: Have what? (she’s notorious for absolutely random thoughts)

The Kid: Oh wait, I know. They didn’t have them back then.

Me: What?!!? Back when?? Have what??

The Kid: Drinks like this. They didn’t have them back then because they didn’t have anything to warm the milk.

Me: Of course they did! Why would you think otherwise??

Me: (Stunned pause) We had coffee shops . . . (stammering) There weren’t as many as there are now, but we had . . . DUNKIN DONUTS! They have coffee there! And I got to have donuts, too!

The Kid: You got DONUTS??!! (muttering) I never get donuts.

Me: (Continues driving while absolutely astounded my childhood has been referred to as “back then” during a time when milk couldn’t be warmed.)

While I recognize her perspective on age is completely opposite mine, the early morning age-check caught me completely off guard. And I hadn’t even had a chance to finish my coffee yet.