20th January 2023
Nothing ever happens at Starbucks on the north side, except for the occasional slurp or rustle of a paper bag being crunched up, or the frantic typing of a student catching up on the long overdue homework.
Today was different, both myself and Kelli were killing time, minding our own business when there was drama at the front door.
A large couple happened to enter the premises, the man taking the stool nearest the door, his wife, or at least I think it was, suddenly fell to the ground. She was the kind of woman that shouldn’t have been let out without a muzzle because her voice ripped though the place like a jagged piece of shrapnel. Not many people rushed to help her, no one had an engine hoist handy, but the manager rushed to see what was going on.
It was unclear what happened, did she slip, or what? These places have large mats in front of the door, so unless her shoes were slicks, I doubt that. She was describing her fall in a voice that was painful to ease drop, the tone made fingernails on a chalkboard seem tuneful.
She apparently slipped off the rung on the leg of the stool, personally I think her ankles just decided this was the time to give up.
The manager rushed back with a cup of ice, because now it was a full blown emergency. She was asking if Starbucks would pay for an X-ray, the manager, of course had to check with head office.
The lady was then on her phone telling all her friends what had happened in graphic detail, I’m sure they were all giving her the same advice. Her husband was looking embarrassed, he didn’t want to be this close to a real drama Queen, his eyes were in a different place, maybe the local zoo, where her would have to return her later that day.
There was the exchange of phone numbers, a a promise to “get back” to her as soon as head office “got back” to him. He must have been secretly wishing for his shift, or his life to end.
After that episode, we visited a place called “ Not so shabby” a consignment store specifically for repurposed furniture and old tat. There we met John and Patti who do very much the same as us, but they sell their furniture at the store. We hadn’t seen them for a while so we chatted for a while. John has a part-time job working for an undertake collecting the diseased. He asked me if I wanted a job, as the death rate had risen and they needed more staff. I declined the offer as I really don’t think I could do that sort of work.
It takes a special kind of person to do that kind of work, and I’m not one of them.
Later in the afternoon a lady came to collect the two dressers that we sold on Wednesday, a good end to an interesting day.