Tag Archives: mom

The annual food coma.

Do you mind, asshole?

There is something wrong with people.

Some sort of cognitive breakdown that occurs when some people get in public.

Specifically, it has to do with cell phones and videos.

Get a headset, bluetooth or old school plug in, take your pick.

The Starbucks is not a familiar one.

Its one of those “Sort of” Starbucks thats inside a Barnes and Noble book store.

They have the logo, but they are B & N people.

Its like a crack dealer that sells more ice cream out of the back of the ice cream truck than weed.

You know their heart is not in it.

To deal the beans, you have to understand the beans.

If you ever want to talk coffee beans, go to the Coffee Bean and ask the cashier about their Costa Rican brew.

The education is worthwhile, I can assure you.

Starbuck’s people know there stuff as well.

But my B&N brew tasted a little off, I asked the cashier what kind of roast it was?

She looked confused and then, looked at me with a straight face:

“It’s coffee.”


I take my addiction seriously and I expect my dealer to as well.

But enough of that.

It’s Thanksgiving.

Time to visit The Family.

Holidays with my family is a lot like swimming in a tank with trained sharks.

When it goes well, everything is fine.

But never forget that the whole crowd can turn on you in an instant.

But, and this is the really important part, these are my people.

That unruly mob I mentioned that might chew up the unsuspecting and spit them out?

I am one of them.

I am the peasant with the pitchfork and the torch, screaming “Burn her, she’s a witch!”

In a manner of speaking.


Morning after Thanksgiving.

I noticed something pretty significant last night.

I used to be a severe turk-aholic.

Turkey, God’s gift to the pilgrims.

I used to live and breath turkey, but only on Thanksgiving.

Now? Not so much.

Now its the wine and desert.

Last night was a delightful Riesling paired with a dish without a name.

“Chocolate Crack” comes close, but not quite.

Let me describe the taste bud-gasm in detail.

A layer of chocolate.

A layer of marshmallow infused with cinnamon whiskey.

A later of caramel.

Another layer of chocolate.

A crumble across the top made of bacon, black pepper and Cayenne powder.

To call it rich is like saying a homeless guy could use some deodorant.

It is not something you wolf down.

It is something you take a small bite of, chewing slowly, discerning all of the different flavors and textures prior to taking a sip of wine to accompany it down your throat.

Just the memory of it has me both aroused and hungry.

And yet, if they sold it in the bakery case at Starbuck’s, I would never by it.

Because it all has to do with time and location.

Like a sandwich made by your mom when you were little, you’ve eaten better since, but they still stand out.

Happy Thanksgiving, hope you all enjoyed your people, I know I did.

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Posted by on November 29, 2013 in Uncategorized


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Karma, we meet again.

Last year I wrote a post about a Starbucks on the edge of the “Other side of the tracks” with a cashier that “Don’t give a fuck, I’ll cut a bitch.”

That one.

Its not one I visit all that often, but my day ended up near there and I wanted some caffeine.

Well there she is.

Not a hair has changed.

She is in her early 20’s but has that aged look you get when you live a life that prematurely ages you.

Just about the oldest 20 something I have ever seen.

The last time I saw her, she had gotten married the week before and her boyfriend was arrested at the reception for being under the influence of something called “Booley”.

I have Googled, researched, and even asked a pro in the drug rehab biz, no one has a clue what “Booley” is.

Anyway, I am sad to say, while taking my order, I happened to notice that she is no longer wearing her wedding ring.

Sad when young love fails.

And yet, I would still give them better odds than the marriages of any of the Kardashians.

That is a family that gives each other new heads for Christmas.

Sorry, there is an ad for “Keeping up with the Kardashians on a website on my laptop.

I get easily distracted, blame the lack of caffeine.

The cashier, it seems, has a new dilemma, once again involving her guy. (Noticing a theme here?)

“My Abuella hasn’t heard from him. And he KNOWS I can’t get the baby, I gotta work.”

(Her ex is unreliable? Didn’t see that coming.)

And yet, as messed up as I may think her life is, she is gainfully employed and has been holding it down for at least a year.

My Spanish is dicey at best, but I at least know she is talking about her grandmother.

Daycare can be a bitch even with the right home situation.

Try doing it on your own and most single mothers are fucking magician/jugglers that handle crap that would break most others.

I am done being sarcastic about this girl.

I can be a dick at times, but even I have a heart. Somewhere.

Tough to find, but its there.

I rarely tip, but on my way out, I toss several ones in the tip jar.

Karma may be an unreliable bitch, but she sometimes pays attention.

Best to stay on her good side, never know when she might decide to get in the game.

The Starbucks has hideous parking, so I park around the block.

It is as I come around the corner that I see the cop, standing next to my car.

With complete clarity, I now see that I misread the sign and am now eligible for a parking ticket.


“This your car?” At least the cop seems friendly.

“Yes, sorry, I misread the sign.”

“Thats ok, just pay more attention next time.” Not a look back as he gets in his car and drives off.

No ticket.

Well played, Karma, well played.

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Posted by on November 25, 2013 in Uncategorized


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