A venti coffee and a side of crazy to go

So I'm at work yesterday...

(It's possible that many entries could begins this way. I work at Starbucks and the weirdest people come in sometimes. For example, the guy who came in a few weeks ago ranting about how the Communists are everywhere, they're creating an army of cars (?), and how he needs a ride down to Borders bookstore because he placed a Korean bible in the dumpster there that has codes in it to save the world. Just another day in the life of a guy who obviously works for the CIA, the FBI, and conicidentally, the KGB, which for those of you who watch Alias, no longer exists. He was later on dragged out by the police. I wonder what they did with that pita bread he was snacking on?)

So this trucker guy comes in. He's from Tennessee. Obviously never had corrective dental work done at any point in his life. He proceeds to order 2 drinks. A venti mocha with 8 shots of espresso. (For those who are not caffiene addicts, 8 shots should be past the legal limit. I wouldn't want to drive my little car next to his semi.) He also orders a venti white mocha frappucino with 10 scoops of malt, for his pregnant wife who is apparently waiting in the truck. Now, the normal amount that I would put in a venti frappucino is 4. So obviously someone is using that "I'm pregnant and can consume whatever I want" routine.

Dwayne proceeds to talk about how he drives in 48 states and takes his wife with him wherever he goes. Dwayne has a special skill, too. He can tell when women are going to get pregnant. He knew about his wife and his sister--in-law. He points to me (which I am oblivious to at the time) and says to my co-worker, "See that girl over there? She'll be pregnant within a year."

Thanks, Dwayne. I need a shower now. And a prescription for birth control. Have a nice day and enjoy that caffiene.

What the heck?

Why do I feel compelled to start another one of these things? Nicole, this is totally your fault. I had one for about 3 years, and it turned into a writhing mass of melodrama. Oooh, that was nice. Maybe I blog because I say insane things like "writhing mass of melodrama."

So this is where I get to talk all about me, and open the door to all of you and invite you to share in my sick little world. The world where everything is analyzed in triplicate and where I finally come to see that simple truths are really just that...truth. And there's a reason things become cliche. As much as we hate to hear them, they are true. Things like "It'll all work out in the end" and "Time heals all wounds". Oh how I hate that.

It's raining here and a bit cold. I could opt to stay here and watch Felicity for 2 hours on WE, end up crying and depressed and thinking about all the reasons why my life connects with a fictional character...or I could go to the Evil Empire of Darkness (aka WalMart) and buy deodorant.

See, already I've sucked you in. Isn't this fun?