Some of you might recall that I once deemed a diary too rambling and personal to cross-post here in full. This is longer, even more rambling, and even more personal, but in light of my “pox” post, I figured I owed BMG the whole thing.
Let’s talk about food.
Why? Because I like food, and I’m too lazy to do any research to make my points.
The actual reason is that food offers me a vehicle to follow up on my “pox” post and discuss the sort of issues I think the Democratic Party, and by extension the entire American political system, should pay more attention to. We all eat. And because I can only walk in my own shoes … which is part of the point.
Every weekday, I get coffee at the same place on my way to work. It’s my second cup, usually, and it’s not optional. If I’m 15 minutes early, I stop there; if I’m 45 minutes late, I stop there. When I stop, I tend to be carrying too much stuff — sometimes my work laptop, sometimes not, but really the days without the laptop can be worse because then the stuff is not compressed into one thing. I’ll have a book, my reading glasses in a hard shell case that is broken and won’t close tightly, and my brown (plastic) bag lunch. So the coffee, which is self-serve (I pour it, I put the milk in) makes a new element and sometimes creates a delay in the time it takes me to get the money out.
The delay can be, I’d say … five or six seconds. Long time. Forever if there’s a line.