Down the Hall on Your Left

This site is a blog about what has been coasting through my consciousness lately. The things I post will be reflections that I see of the world around me. You may not agree with me or like what I say. In either case – you’ll get over it and I can live with it if it makes you unhappy. Please feel free to leave comments if you wish . All postings are: copyright 2014 – 2019

Run That Past Me Again

I DON’T MIND IT WHEN PEOPLE ASK ME QUESTIONS. I don’t even mind tough questions – not at all. But what constitutes a tough question often depends on the time of day.

You can ask me for the answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything after lunch and I can give you the answer (42). However, if you ask me that before my first coffee of the day and I’d be stumped. Actually, almost any question before coffee is likely to be answered with nothing more than a grunt.

This morning that is what happened to me.

It was about 6:20 AM. Still dark out…at least I think it was still dark. I’m not really sure. I drove there with my eyes closed. I’m not at my best that early.

As I approached the door at St. Arbucks a young man, or a young woman, or maybe it was a coyote I’m not sure – opened the door for me. I must have really looked pathetic galumphing across the parking lot. I muttered something I think was a “Thank You” and went in.

I got to the counter and the Barista punched my order, flawlessly, into the register. It was then that he decided to play “Twenty Questions” with me. He tossed me a real toughie…

“How do you spell your name?”

“Say that again,” I asked him.

“How do you spell your name?”

He might as well have asked me for the formula to turn Lead into Gold.

All I could think of to give him as an answer was:

“The Traditional way.”

“J-O-N?” he asked. Another question.

My genetic make-up as a Smarty Pants kicked in.

“P-J-O-H-N – The “P” is silent.” (thanks to P.P.) Even at 6:20 AM I still got it. That sarcasm gene never fails me.

This particular Barista was not a Newbie there. He has waited on me hundreds of times. Why then, oh, why did he pick today to ask me a tough question at 6:20 AM? Let me have a sip or twelve first and I would have answered his question with a civil tongue. But, sneak up on me when my heart is beating only three or four times a minute and you might find yourself facing a barrage of “Huh?” and “What?”

Or even a “The ‘P’ is silent.”

It has been clinically proven that at 6:20 AM the human brain (I have one – an early model.) is smooth. The many furrows and crevasses don’t appear until 8 AM and after coffee. It’s Science and not just my opinion.

That Barista’s name is “Sean.” If I had had even one sip of my coffee before he began to browbeat me with trick questions I would have turned it all around and asked him, “And how do you spell your name?”

As if I care.

6:20 AM. Am I “Google?” Do I look like a Super Computer? At 6:20 AM I have trouble with consonants. Please don’t ask me those tough, cerebral cortex twisting, lobe bursting, questions.

“How do you spell your name?”

Indeed.

Sean, just make up something and put it on the label. You don’t care. It doesn’t matter, and I won’t remember this conversation thirty seconds from now.

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