I went over to Peat's (No, not the one on San Pablo) to meet with my buddy Peet Peterson. He wasn't there yet so I decided to use my free coupon while I waited.
I had been to this coffee joint a couple of weeks and when I ordered a cup of java, the coffee guy said he'd have to make a new pot. He said it would be "Thirty seconds. That okay?"
Sure. I'm a busy guy but I can wait thirty seconds. Usually.
And I did.
But when forty seconds passed, I said, "I think the 30 seconds are up."
I'm wound tight, always on deadline and I expect others to follow my lead. Don't make promises you can't keep.
When I tell my cat to come, she better come. Or at least in the next couple of hours. Not that I don't love my cat (I often give her a bath. And, people are so surprised to find out she absolutely loves it! Loves it! And I enjoy doing it too -- except when the hair sticks to my tongue).
He senses my dissatisfaction and gives me a coupon for a free cup.
So today I present my coupon, and the pregnant barista says, "Would you like to upgrade that?"
I had called her out on her condition earlier, saying "Is it okay for you to drink coffee?"
I was 90 percent sure she was with child underneath the apron, but you never know. I had come armed with back up anyway. If she wasn't pregnant, I'd save her face by saying, "It's just pounds anyway," or "What I was trying to say was that you'd look beautiful pregnant if you ever decided to bring a child into this strange and beautiful world."
Anyway, she had said it was okay to drink coffee, just not over a certain amount.
"No," I deadpanned. "How about a downgrade?" I love to be downgraded.
She went into an long explanation about how it would be difficult to downgrade from a small cup of coffee. I stick with whatever is between a downgrade and an upgrade.
After an hour or so and Pete Peterson is nowhere in sight, I go to use the bathroom. It's got one of those sensory-enhanced lights, or whatever you call them. But it's flickering off and on. It's nighttime in here.
Hmmm. I can wait twenty minutes or more for them to repair it, or see if I can handle things in the dark. I see what I think is a hole, a black hole or some sort of white thing that surrounds something the opposite of white.
That must be it!
I go for it.
Everything goes well, but I figure I might as well let the staff know about the problem.
"The light's out in the Men's room," I tell the pregnant barista. "Can't get any reading done in there."
Addendum to bathroom reading: Never bring a book into the the library bathroom because they will force you to check it out for two weeks.
"I'll get it fixed."
And she did.