There is a direct correlation between how badly you need your overpriced coffee drink to be made correctly with how badly they will mess up the order. Twice.
Yesterday, I was having a crap sort of day and I promised myself that I could get a coffee drink when I went downtown for a reading at night. Something to look forward to in that Theo-from-Children-of-Men-going-to-the-Quietus sort of way. I got to the bookstore with plenty of time to spare and went to the cafe to order an iced decaf americano. It's two ingredients--ice and espresso.
"I don't know how to make that!" the woman exclaimed behind the counter.
I look up at the menu above her head. "It's on your menu. It's just espresso over ice."
"Oh," she said, and continued to stand there and stare at me.
A co-worker announced that she knew how to make an americano and went to work. The first attempt was thwarted when the espresso machine refused to turn off and the drink spilled over the side of the cup like a mini coffee waterfall for three minutes. The second attempt looked wrong. The barista could tell that it looked wrong and gave me an apologetic shrug as she passed me the drink. It tasted wrong. I brought it back up to the counter.
"I really think there's something wrong with your machine," I told them, handing back the cup that didn't really resemble an americano in colour. "But I'm late for the reading upstairs so I'll just take a refund and order coffee on the way out when I have more time."
"Can't give a refund without a manager," a third co-worker informed me.
We waited three minutes while he stared off into space. At this point, the reading had started. I finally asked him if he was going to call the manager. "You want me to call the manager?" he asked. When I told him that I did want him to call the manager and he reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of bills.
"Here, you can have two dollars back."
"But I paid $2.42," I said.
"Well, I'll just give you two dollars because that's what I have now," he answered, slipping the rest of the bills back into his pocket. Now you see them; now you don't. It's Starbucks magic.
And while I truly didn't want to be a bitch about 42 cents, this was where I was in that moment: you owe me a fucking coffee drink. I will accept that the world owes me nothing--it's not a given that a person will get married no matter how badly they want a partner; or a book will get published just because you write it; or--and I think we all know this one to be true--you will have a baby even if you are injecting yourself with drugs and having your embryos declared perfect. But, by fuck, Starbucks is the one thing within my control. This is how it works: you tell yourself that a coffee drink will make up for the fact that you can't get pregnant naturally, you go and order the drink, it comes exactly as you expected it to come, and you drink it--feeling no different emotionally than you did before you received the drink, even though you were convinced that a cup of coffee would somehow make bad news more palatable. The world may owe me nothing, but Starbucks owes me an iced americano if I pay $2.42.
It just creates a mood. A mood of one more thing that can't go according to plan. Damn you, Starbucks!
Ten minutes into the reading, the manager finally arrives, gives me back my money and I bolt up the escalator, sliding into a seat miraculously as the author walks to the podium. No coffee, but it felt like the heavens aligned for me by not making me miss a minute of a reading I had driven over an hour to attend. All is well that ends well. I got my coffee drink this morning. And I upgraded to a white mocha. Because I'm freakin' worth it.
Grab your own cup of coffee and think click away, reading these fantastic posts...
Coffee will be released out your nose when you read this post by DD at T.K.O...More or Less. But even more amusing is that this could create a renaissance of the crank phone call. Millions of stirrup queens calling fertility clinics and asking if they run the new GraPHC... Think about it. Hours of fun.
Bea at Infertile Fantasies often gives me pause with her posts (and I'm not talking about the quaking fear I feel over getting my movie completed in time for the Infertility International Film Festival because I am about to vomit over the pressure and Josh will attest to this), but this one was so bittersweet and funny and sad all at the same time. The ending made me sigh, "Oh, Bea..." especially in light of today's news. A low beta can be a mind fuck or it can be the start of something wonderful. And since there is no way of knowing the future, please go over and visit Bea and let her know that you're rooting for her.
Kir at Kir's Corner has a great post this week about drowning (any entry that ties in Grey's Anatomy is always dear to my heart)--and the difference between hibernating during a break and drowning in infertility. I can't really do justice to the entry in a few sentences, so go over and read the whole piece. Hopefully her appointment with the RE went well this week and it was the life vest she needed to stay afloat.
The Divine Miss E at Miss E's Musings has a post on secondary fertility--no, not secondary infertility, but secondary fertility: those natural conceptions that occur after a family has gone through hell and back to have their first child(ren). Her friend was telling her about his sister who had triplets via fertility treatments and then conceived her fourth child naturally and he said, "So I guess they weren't that infertile." Except that they were. And still are. Or maybe you think they're not. I heard an interesting statistic last night: 7--10% of women who adopt later become pregnant naturally. Just as 7--10% of women who stop fertility treatments later become pregnant naturally. You can use that statistic next time someone tells you that you should just adopt and you'll become pregnant in a heartbeat! Anyway, it's an interesting post and will give you food for thought.
If you need a good laugh, My Dear Watson can tell you all of the uses for avian Lupron that you didn't even know existed. Truly, I got through 32 years of life without knowing that "behaviors such as aggression, regurgitation and inappropriate sexual activities demonstrated improvement with Lupron" when it was given to birds.
Lastly, Tina has a beautiful post at My Many Blessings about paying it forward (called...strangely enough..."Pay it Forward"). I think I was most impressed with the way Tina thought about the person who lost the money rather than her own gain. But I also love that she donated to March of Dimes. It's a gorgeous post.
And that, my friends, is just a few of the good things I read this week. A relaxing weekend to all...