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 – 2017

Archive for the tag “Coffee”

Happy Hour!

LITTLE BY LITTLE, STEP BY STEP. The universe is starting to listen to me and take my suggestions to create a better world.

Example: 

This morning I pulled the Toyota into the parking lot at St. Arbucks and I noticed a large sign tied to a steel barrier by the front door.

Happy Hour at St. Arbucks? Two weeks when their “Frappe-whatevers” will be half price. Well, Yippee-ki- yo – I guess.

Leave your day behind. Forget the stress and strain of the job and drown it all in a pancreas shattering blast of sugar.

Read more…

Sunrise Monday Morning

IT’S 6:45 AM AND I AM IN MY USUAL WRITING POSITION – a corner table at Starbucks – with coffee and a pen. Like most other mornings I start off by checking the online news to see what mischief the world has been up to overnight, and then I look at my mail and lastly, Facebook.

What I see on Facebook is usually enough to launch my day and give me something to write about – but not today. All of my friends and acquaintances are either still asleep or busy monitoring their blood pressure.

Read more…

I Need A Time-Out

AS DAYS GO TODAY STARTED OUT LOOKING TO BE A GOOD ONE. The rains had stopped, the car got a free washing courtesy of “God’s Car Wash”, and I think I saw the sun trying to peek through the clouds.

According to the Weather Bunny on the TV today is supposed to be a dry day. I’m glad because later I’ll have to drag the recycling bin down to the curb for pickup later today.

Read more…

A Quiet Morning – Screaming Comes Later

quiet2ON A QUIET MORNING LIKE THIS ONE WHEN IT’S JUST ME AND MY COFFEE I can feel the tensions of Life sloughing off like frost off the car’s rear window.

It is 16° degrees outside, but I don’t mind it right now because it keeps some people at home and away from me.

These days it seems like most people are screaming – at one another, at the government, at the world, at themselves. When things don’t go the way they like they start to scream thinking that will make things better – “Better” being the way they want things to be. It doesn’t work of course. It never has, it never will.

Self-Delusion is so much neater than Reality.

Read more…

The Panic in Plastic Cup Park

newbies“I HOPE YOU CAN GET SOME COFFEE MADE BY SOMEONE YOU KNOW.”

It sounds like I want to be served by a Groupie, doesn’t it? Not so.

That quote came from the lips of my wonderful wife, the lovely and tea sipping, Dawn, as I headed off to St. Arbucks this morning.

Her words came in response to my mild grumbling about having to deal with Baristas-in-training for the last few days.

Now, before you start to jump up and down on my allegedly elitist throat, let me explain the circumstances behind my curmudgeonosity.

Read more…

Dalai Lama – Yes. Pauly Shore – No.

coffee1IT’S AN UNUSUAL DAY AT ST. ARBUCKS. It is a little before 8 AM and I am the only worshipper present. The Drive-Thru chapel is doing a booming business, but inside – I’m it.

On most mornings this place is hopping and quite noisy. This morning it is a good place for contemplative thought. Maybe they should put up a new sign out renaming this place as: “The Dalai Lama Coffee House.” Ommmmmmm.

Read more…

Throwback Thursday – from August 2015

Throwback Thursday 3

Ooh, I Can Hear Myself Thinking

tree aloneTHIS IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE TIMES of the year at the Chapel of St. Arbucks here in Terre Haute (That’s French for, “Why did I buy more onion dip?”).

At this time every year we have a Scholastic Solstice of a sort. For about ten days this place is quiet. The Public Schools have resumed classes while the colleges and universities don’t kick into gear for another week or so. As a result, the usually busy St. Arbucks is an oasis of relative quiet. The decibel level drops from “Karakatoa on the Wabash” loud down to “My headache has disappeared” manageable. The difference is both thrilling and humbling.

During the summertime when the schools are out, St Arbucks becomes a favorite haunt of the pubescent masses who come in, order a “Strawberry and Cream Frappuccino,” and think they’re drinking coffee – Oh, so grown-up. All they are really doing is getting a fortified sugar rush and turning into nonstop chatterboxes. The giggling alone from a table with 10 high school girls is enough to make my Curmudgeon Lobe work overtime.

It is different with the obligatory teenage boys who are also here, following the girls and trying to look macho. At least they are much quieter as they practice looking both sullen and somewhat dangerous or James Dean emotionally lost and in need of a cuddle.

These two factions are in St. Arbucks all summer, minus the two weeks when their parents drag them to visit the Grandparents in some version of Iowa. When they return though, they have two weeks of giggling and posing to catch up on. It is during those two weeks that we try to get out of town.

When the colleges and universities shovel their students into town they show up by the study-group load, monopolizing tables and power outlets for their computers and cell phone chargers.

As a rule the college age crowd isn’t as noisy as the younger chair-fillers. They just fill the sonic landscape with keyboard clicks, textbook page turning and low frequency murmuring about the validity of the scientific method and the real meaning of “The Fight Club.”

Whatever happened to the days when college freshmen argued philosophy in on-campus student lounges and not out in public where the rest of us can hear them and are thrown into fits of despair for the future?

It is during this all too short respite when the younger students are back learning how to cheat on tests from their underpaid teachers and the older students are still trying to figure out how to smuggle microwave ovens into their dorm rooms that the Chapel of St. Arbucks becomes a place for contemplation, reasonable discussions about unreasonable things and, on occasion, a venue for impromptu middle-aged performance art. Things that could never happen if the students were here sounding like a billion hormone driven cicadas.

At this moment I am one of four customers/worshippers here at St. Arbucks. Two of them are women in their thirties who are chatting and sipping quietly. The fourth person is seated at the table behind me and I haven’t heard a sound out of her. Perhaps someone should check to make sure that she is still alive. If she isn’t, let her be for a while – it’s nice in here right now.

Meatballs, Mocha, And Mr. Dillon

St. ArbucksTHIS MORNING DOWN AT ST. ARBUCKS the Usual Suspects were deep in conversation. The Heavily Caffeinated Philosophers were arguing about which fast-food chain had the most stores. One said it was McDonalds, another suggested KFC. At least they weren’t discussing something trivial.

Read more…

We’re Talking Survival Here

delegate1I AGREED TO BE A DELEGATE TO THIS ANNUAL MEETING. I’ve done it before, but this year it has been a real chore. I’m talking about two main reasons that are important to me – and I don’t think I’m alone on this.

These business meeting sessions begin at 10:30 AM – in and of itself not bad, but why is there no coffee available? Is that too much to ask?

I am a severe coffee aficionado and if I don’t get my coffee, people could be in danger. Give me some coffee and I’m sure we can work it all out without bloodshed.

Read more…

I’m Just Guessing Here

Saint ArbucksI LOVE GOING INTO ST. ARBUCKS. It is a veritable showcase for displaying the skills of the Marketing and Advertising people who are sitting in Seattle drinking way too much coffee and not getting enough Vitamin D.

There is no way I can verify this, but – I suspect that the corporate Marketing and Ad folks working at the Espresso Vatican are all in their 20s with MFA degrees from East Coast schools. Moving to Seattle was the first time that they have not had their parent’s home listed as their legal address.

While still on campus they attended a “Job Fair” where the Head Hunters from the Puget Sound passed out coupons and seriously flirted with anyone who could correctly spell “Frappuccino.”

Read more…

Start Every Day Like This

1In the midst of the chaos and insanity I see around me on a daily basis, this morning I saw two things that filled my morning with beauty and comfort.

As I drove toward St. Arbucks this morning in the blue light of dawn I could see, dominating the western sky, a Full Moon. There were just a few high and wispy clouds leaving the Full Moon to light up the sky unfettered.

Read more…

It Was All Downhill

suspects 1A WHILE BACK I WENT FOR COFFEE. Okay, that fits just about any day, I admit. On most of those days I can count on seeing at least one or more of the Fans of the Little Brown Bean slumped in their pew. The Chapel of St. Arbucks has a faithful congregation. There are those interlopers who get their coffee and leave, but I tend to ignore them. The regulars are known as “The Usual Suspects.

On the day I have in mind, a couple of days after the New Hampshire Primary, I stumbled through the door to find five of The Usual Suspects already there.

Read more…

I Guess I’m Fine

Fine 1EVERY MORNING, RAIN OR SHINE, winter or summer, when I go out for my morning coffee at St. Arbucks, the Barista asks me, “How are you today?” I usually reply with a perfunctory, “Fine,” then slouch away to find a corner to huddle in. There has to be a better way to start my initial human interactions each day.

Maybe I should answer the Barista’s question with something other than just that plain old white bread, “Fine.”

Let me think. Hmmmm…?

Read more…

Throwback Thursday from 1/28/2015

dba7f76a-e54f-4868-aa6c-0badec6bc3ed

A Visit To My Alternate Universe

SF Coffee

 

I HAVE OPTED TO SKIP my usual visit today to the Chapel at St. Arbucks in favor of going to the “other place” in my neighborhood.

With the impossibly cute name of Java Haute, (we’re in Terre Haute and they serve coffee – AKA Java.  Get it? Get it? Clever, huh???) it is a hangout/study area for students from the nearby engineering college. Ergo: this joint has a higher geek population than most places this side of your local Best Buy store.

I’m here because I got an email from them announcing that this week at Java Haute was “San Francisco Week.”

Whatever.

Read more…

Coffee With The Morlocks

TIMESBlue Hair Gif HAVE CHANGED. THE WORLD HAS MOVED ON. I have been left behind. But, really now!

I was up early today. It just happened. So, naturally I crawled down to St. Arbucks earlier than usual. It’s a different place at 7:30 in the morning. It’s like a scene from “The Time Machine.” At 7:30 the Morlocks are out and the Eloi arrive later.

Read more…

Whatever Will We Do? Wherever Will We Go?

Starbucks party

IT HAS BEEN A LONG TIME since I’ve written about St. Arbucks.

St. Arbucks, the Chapel of the Patron Saint of Jittery People is where I officially start my day about nine days a week.

When I arrive I pull into a parking space and stumble into the Chapel and beg a coffee from one of the Barista/Acolytes who run the joint. With my coffee in hand I take my place in the pew next to the other regular worshippers – AKA “The Usual Suspects.”

Read more…

Here I Am – There I Go — Throwback Thursday!

It’s Throwback Thursday from Dec. 11, 2014

Here I Am – There I Go

Harpo_and_Lucy

I THINK OF MYSELF AS A PRETTY ORDINARY looking person, not at all unique. However, I think things might be better for me if I did look less ordinary. Let me explain.

On a disturbingly frequent basis I am mistaken for someone else. It seems that I have a number of doppelgangers walking around out there.

Read more…

Bad News Travels Slow – Continued

Saturday Fiction Day Detective-with-smoke-flipped-300x244

 

“We’re not doing a damn thing.”

Well, that little bulletin left Dinwiddie grinning, the Police Chief looking like a Pekingese who didn’t make it to the backyard in time, and me wondering what to say next. Dinwiddie jumped into that uncomfortable gap.

“Does that surprise you, my friend?”

The whole place was beginning to smell less like cookies and more like sour milk.

“Surprisingly – No.” I said. I figured at least one of us had to be honest.

Read more…

Throwback Thursday Throws It Back

In an effort to be considered a “Hip” and “With it” guy I’m going to resurrect a posting for today that ran a year ago. It is “Throwback Thursday” I’ve been told.

Just don’t hate me because I’m beautiful. From November 25, 2014.

“Significant Signal Leakage”

 There was a knock on the door one day last week. It was a uniformed young man from the Cable Company. His van was parked at the curb with a very large ladder strapped to the top.

The fellow politely introduced himself and stated that there had been a report of a, “Significant Signal Leakage,” reported at our address and he had been sent to investigate and correct the problem. The big ladder was so he could check the connections on the pole along the backyard fence.

He didn’t look like he was about to pull off a home invasion or an attempt to steal my 2002 Hyundai, so my response was, to paraphrase, “Whatever.”

Read more…

We Who Are About To Dine, Salute You

turkey cannibal

TODAY IS THE DAY AFTER THANKSGIVING – the day when people everywhere in this country are sleeping off an overdose of Tryptophan.

Turkey meat is chock full of tryptophan – a glorious endorphin that can make us relaxed, drowsy, and missing the second half of that football game we had planned on watching.

The guests who were invited to join in the dining event have all gone home, many with plates full of sliced turkey and stuffing in hand – “Care Packages” we used to call them.

Read more…

Post Navigation

%d bloggers like this: