is a single mama in the city, super-savvy editor, writer, video host and shameless shoe whore.
Things I've Seen at Starbucks: Or at least heard
Monday, November 5, 2007 Please God, someone get Amy Winehouse's Rehab out of my head. And please, Starbucks corporate, take it out of rotation on the mix that plays over and over and freaking over while I am trying to make this place my warm, cozy fortress of solitude professional office environment. Well, an office environment where the people bring me samples of whipped creamy coffee drinks and little pieces of cut up walnut pumpkin muffins. It lacks the recap of Brothers & Sisters and Amazing Race, but I am learning to deal with that.
What I can't deal with is The Nose Picker. Oh, and the woman who must be some kind of administrator at the YMCA down the street and comes in for extended breaks, hones in on any seat within inches of me at my most studious moments and talks loud enough for the old ladies in swim caps doing modified breast stroke laps in the pool to hear her. I just do not need to know any more about the beautiful red and white wedding her husband planned in the mid-90s and why she doesn't really need him anymore. Rather, doesn't need him for anything except for [insert semi-whispered double entendre alluding to things you do not need to hear a former softball player in a denim skirt and low heels talking about]....nahnahnahnah [then insert covering ears and singing Rehab to myself for full-on avoidance of anything further]. I swear, if the Nose Picker and Y Lady ever come in at the same time and go to work on and with themselves, my little , fragile universe may just implode, leaving only droplets of Awake tea and shreds of Post-It notes from my denigrated laptop.
For now, I will just put my head down and try not to acknowledge my co-workers the patrons. I will order a yogurt parfait for lunch, bulldoze through some blogging and hope it doesn't come to that. No no no.
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