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Change. I've learned to embrace it, ride it out til the end. Sometimes I'm kicking and screaming, other times weeping with my eyes clinched tight. Once in awhile I ride like a dog in a car, head out the window snorting what life has to offer. Mother to young adult children, a marriage of thirty years, and a desert to mountain to valley waltz with God have shaped me into someone I never imagined I'd be. Life is short and I want to live it. Tears, sighs, laughter and change. Every morsel granted to me. Scrambled, shaken or stirred.

Friday, December 14, 2012

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Java Shop Update

No, I didn't make this one. A little Seattle trip reminiscing.
I'm getting to know the customers at the coffee shop. The guy in the uniform = the large Caramel Frappe with extra coffee...unless he wants to mix it up and go with a hot caramel. Never, ever whipped cream, don't even ask. He could come back behind the counter and make his own because when I was still learning and asked & how many pumps or ounces of one of the components he'd supply the answer.

Mocha Jim, skim, extra shot mocha with a sticker on the spout. Generous tipper, too, I might add. 

The four to five guys who buy varying scenarios of brewed coffee. One likes four ice cubes, another likes an inch of hot water. One buys a small, then comes back up to pay for a refill. Another likes the endless mug but in the smaller cup.  Another buys an Americano then sits down while we make it. I delivered it the other morning. The guys complained, "Hey, why do you deliver his coffee? Why are you so nice to him?" (Said in whiney, pitiful voices.) Mr. Americano thanked me graciously. So I told them that they could learn a little bit by paying attention. With a smile, of course, my sarcasm is always delivered with a smile. 

So yesterday, when I delivered the Americano, one of them piped up. "Hey, are you and your daughter the same age?" 

Did I mention that I like my little coffee gig?

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