Christopher Long: THE STARBUCKS FRAP-A-SODES (Pt. 1)

Man does not live by bread alone.
(A little Starbucks helps too!)

*This series is in no way endorsed or

sponsored by the Starbucks Corporation.

I'm merely a longtime dedicated customer.

The opinions, observations and stories shared here are based purely on my own
personal experiences.

_______________________________

I start each day around 6AM at my neighborhood Starbucks. Immediately I order a grande-size coffee and ever-predictable slice of Lemon Loaf. After doctoring my (bold) brew with (exactly) 3/4 of one Sugar in the Raw packet and generous amounts of cream, I seek out a comfy spot on the outdoor patio. From there, I open either one of my ECCU text books or my tried and true NLT and dive into my morning Bible study. I try to head home by 7AM – before the scene becomes exceptionally chaotic.

But often, this can prove not to be a simple or casual endeavor. In fact, occasionally I experience some rather amusing "frap-a-sodes."

A few days ago, I walked out of Starbucks in a bit of a rush. Carrying my pastry bag in my teeth and with my coffee in one hand, I fumbled for my keys with the other. And in my state of confusion I was oblivious to the fact that several cars now parked outside were similar to mine – silver, family-type vehicles. And by "family-type," I mean the ever-popular mini van. As I opened the driver side door of the closest vehicle and attempted to climb in, I noticed a foreign-looking coffee cup placed in the front seat drink holder. I quickly realized that I also didn't recognize the air freshener hanging from the rear view mirror. Yep, I was in somebody else's silver Dodge mini van! I leaped immediately from the vehicle, being careful not to spill any coffee. I then looked around to see if I'd been caught in the act. Nope, the coast was clear. With style and swagger, I played it off with such confidence as to say, "Yeah, I meant to do that!" Next, I had to snap off a pic of my surroundings as I certainly had to share this rather embarrassing bungle with my readers.

It was a mistake that anyone could have made – right?

Just this morning I was approached by a woman during my Bible study. I recognized her as a frequent Starbucks customer. Not to judge, but merely to recount the story accurately, the woman appears (to me) to be in her early seventies and possesses the outward appearance of a gypsy-type bag lady. After months, we'd never spoken to each other, so I was a bit taken aback when I looked up from my book to notice her standing directly in front of me – wearing her usual sweater and floor-length skirt in the sweltering heat, smoking a Marlboro. With a distinctive raspy voice, she asked, "Let me see them." Uncertain what she was talking about, she reached out and grabbed my hands to get a closer look at my blue glitter finger nail polish. "Ah, yes," she commented. "Now let me see the rings," she commanded. She reached out again to inspect my hands and to take a gander at my bling. "I had a dream about you," she confessed. "I saw your nails and rings in my dream, but I couldn't see your face," she concluded with a matter of fact confidence. "Uh, wow," I replied in my typical articulate fashion. And with that she walked away. When I looked up again from my book a few seconds later, she'd disappeared. Uh, wow!