Love Thy Neighbor

One of the neighbors of this old folks home is Starbucks, the coffee house.  In fact their parking lot joins our parking lot. I have made several jokes about Starbucks, but I am glad they are there.

When life becomes unbearably monotonous, Starbucks provides an escape.  Last night, after an hour of boring simplified rummy, I scooted to Starbucks and ordered a Mocha Latte Frappe.  Now, that is iced coffee at its sweetest and coldest.

One coffee cost $3.95 but it came in a 32  ounce cup with a clear plastic dome with a bright blue straw.  You have to  SIP it, not drink it, or the freezing cold will strike your chest, then your spine and then your brain... yowch. 

So I sat on my scooter at an outside table and sipped, for an hour.  Then I scooted home and continued sitting outside and sipping for another half hour.  In fact, I nursed that thing all evening.  I got my money's worth.

Years ago, when our Starbucks first was built, I used to wheel chair there with my Golden Retreiver, Griff, on a leash.  I would drop the loop of the leash over the arm of one of the outside chairs, and he would sit patiently waiting while I had my coffee inside.  Soon the Starbuck staff came to know Griff and admire his patience, and they soon provided a couple of doggie bowls for him, one with water and one with doggie biscuits.  No coffee for him though. 

That was nice.  The Icon of the Twenty-first century, Starbucks, providing comfort for a twentieth century dog. He became a familiar sight, waiting at the door for his master to return. I was proud to relax there.

Last evening I was "hanging" with the young people who loiter there.  They called me by my first name.  It is a young crowd.  The old codgers "hang" at Carl's Jr for breakfast. 

I may join them, too.