I Was Getting Desperate

A FEW DAYS AGO I BECAME CONVINCED THAT THE WORLD WAS OUT TO DRIVE ME INSANE. To start off with I am not yet in the groove with the time change thing that drove my internal alarm clock into therapy.

It was a little after 6 AM (Or was it 7AM?). I was crawling through the door at the Chapel of St. Arbucks (Patron Saint of Jittery People) in search of coffee when I heard an approaching siren that quickly turned into a full blown hook and ladder fire truck. It careened around the corner and came to a halt in front of a Pancake House across the street. At least it wasn’t the Chapel; I would have been forced to wait among the flames for my coffee.

Within the next two minutes another pair of fire trucks and three Terre Haute (That’s French for “Are the Pancakes ready?”) Police cars appeared. All of them had all of their lights flashing. Inside the Pancake House everything seemed quiet…too quiet.

Never to be left out in the cold the Camera Crew from one of the local TV stations showed up. They set up their camera and then came into St. Arbucks for some coffee. Smart move.

With all of the hullabaloo going on across the street I never saw any fire, smelled any smoke, or saw any Pancakes. All I did see was a bunch of the fire fighter people crash through the door and then come back out less than a minute later. Everyone loitered in the parking lot for a few minutes, then left.

Ho-hum, I got myself a refill.

All of that noise and flashing light business made me uneasy. I was hoping for a little peace and quiet.

Dream on.

I don’t know if what happened next was in some psychic way related, but it sent my gentle soul into spasms.

Nobody told me that there was a Special “Reusable Cup and Coupon” Promotion scheduled for that day. People began to descend on the Chapel like a herd of rabid dogs. The crew behind the counter was overwhelmed. They called in reinforcements but it was too late. At one point there were fifty impatient and caffeine-needy people inside that little space.

I was trapped in the corner. Even if I could have gotten to the door I wasn’t going anywhere because the flow of cars going to the drive-thru window gridlocked the parking lot blocking any hope of escape. I felt like a trapped gerbil.

Eventually I knew that I had to make a break for it. If I didn’t I knew that I was going to be there all day. At a little past 9 AM I pulled down my hat, tightened my belt, and started my move toward freedom.

Impatient people don’t like to move. Some of them had been standing there for more than an hour

waiting for their Special Cup and Coupon and they weren’t leaving without it. I didn’t give a rat’s patoot; I just wanted to go home.

Five minutes of mumbling “Excuse me” intermixed with an occasional “&#**#@!” I made it to the Toyota. The gods of coffee stepped in and arranged for a gap in the traffic. I was able to get out of my parking spot and head home.

I learned later that that crazy promotion mob scene lasted until after lunch when they ran out of the desired cups. It was the biggest money day in the history of that St. Arbucks.

I don’t care. I was a wreck. I went home crawled into bed, assumed the pre-natal position, and turned the electric blanket up to nine.

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