Ah Bugger

The vapid utterings of a neurotic mind.

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Location: DC, United States

I ain't too proud to bug.

Friday, September 29, 2006

We can still be friends, right?

I guess my two day whirlwind romance with the WaPo Express has come to an abrupt end. Still, two dates! That's pretty good for me.
My last whirlwind romance lasted over beers at Carpool and 2,000 text messages and phonemail messages left for me the next day, calling me hot stuff. Hot stuff. Seriously? The end.

My fantasy experience at Starbucks

I know that some of you think I am kidding when you read my drink order from Starbucks, but those of you who know me well (er.. Marci), know that I am not embellishing. Not even a little bit.

This is how my trips to the Barista/drink-order-taker usually go:

I walk up to the counter fiddling with the money in my hand. I like paying with a credit card, too because you don’t have to sign anything. That would be a great place to use a stolen credit card. I’m just sayin’. It’s hard for me to decide what I would like. There are far too many choices and I think I might just like everything. And what if I order the wrong beverage? Like say I ordered a mocha and it turns out, after I have tasted the aforementioned mocha, what I really wanted was a latte?
Once I have determined the beverage of my choice, I pick all of my modifications and with a slightly embarrassed look, try to relay them to the Barista/drink-order-taker. I am embarrassed because I know that I am out of control. Plus, it holds up the line and the Starbucks employees get frazzled. But that’s part of the fun. You know my typical order, so I won’t repeat it again. I then go hide in the front or the back of the store, depending on my Starbucks locale, and wait for them to attempt to announce my drink. Then I run for the beverage and leave.

Here is my dream experience at Starbucks:

I walk up to the counter with my head held high and look the Barista/drink-order-taker straight in the eye with confidence and begin the long sordid explanation of my beverage of choice.
“I would like a short, organic soy, no foam, no whipped, half-caf, extra shot, extra hot latte with ½ pump mocha, teeny squeeze of caramel sauce, and just the essence of vanilla. Oh, and double cup it. I ain’t out to save the world, and I like reading “The Way I See It” off the sides of the cups. Please make sure that the two cups are different.”
Then I would pay and scurry off to look at the items for sale that always intrigue me but never enough to actually buy, and wait for my beverage to be called out.
“DOUBLE CUPPED, SHORT, ORGANIC SOY, NO FOAM, NO WHIPPED, HALF-CAF, EXTRA SHOT, EXTRA HOT LATTE WITH ½ PUMP MOCHA, TEENY SQUEEZE OF CARAMEL SAUCE, AND JUST THE ESSENCE OF VANILLA.”
I push my way through the crowd that built up because of my labor intensive order to claim a wee cup with more writing on the side than a Manhattan bus while screaming “Hands off my drink!” And then I would turn around and run into the Dr. McSteamy from Gray's Anatomy, who would just happen to be in jeans and no shirt. He would say, "That's what I was going to order!" and whisk me away.

This is why Starbucks in Chicago is smart. They get your name and holler it out when your drink is ready. (Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf does this, too.)

Thursday, September 28, 2006

Hi Washington Post Express

Two days in a row. People are gonna start talking.

My grammar-sound, yet highly convoluted sentence stylings are catching the attention of the blog readers of the Washington Post Express.
They took note today of my intro sentence from yesterday.

COMPLEX CONSTRUCTIONS: When we first scanned the following sentence, we thought that Starbucks had branched out from its newish breakfast sandwiches in a new push to take businesses away from the corner convenience store:
Stopped by Giant on my way to Starbucks where I ordered my grande non-fat one pump mocha/three pumps peppermint no foam no whipped latte and the girl kind of rolled her eyes at me, yet only charged me for a tall latte, to buy scratch off lottery tickets.Does Splenda dissolve the scratch-off silver stuff? Just curious. [Ah Bugger]


Splenda does NOT remove the silver stuff. Elbow grease and hopeful fortitude involving a quarter do. Since when is Giant a corner convenience store?

Washington Post Express also quoted me yesterday in their print edition for my dislike of the DC personality. Hey, listen WaPo. If you like me, just tell me. If I like what you are throwing out there, maybe we could be a couple. So far, I am digging what I am seeing.


Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Did I least win the genetic lottery? Hmm?

Stopped by Giant on my way to Starbucks where I ordered my grande non-fat one pump mocha/three pumps peppermint no foam no whipped latte and the girl kind of rolled her eyes at me, yet only charged me for a tall latte, to buy scratch off lottery tickets. I watched a special on E! (I think it was on E! It was late night and I couldn't sleep.) about lottery winners. I got to thinking about what I would do should I win the lottery. So, I bought two $2 scratch offs and one $1 one. They are all Halloween themed. It's September. But that aside, I scratched the $1 one called "Creepy Cash" off to find no matches under the silver foily stuff I had artistically rendered into a series of stripes that displayed the not-winning-numbers. It's cool though. Don't wanna win creepy cash. I want regular cash, or even happy cash. So before I opt to scratch of the two $2 ones, I thought I might tell you what I would do with the $815,000 I could possibly win.
  1. Obvious one is to pay off anyone I owe right now. (Yeah, that means YOU, Big Guido. Don't break my legs.)
  2. Ok, wow. I do not know what I would do with this money. What a boring entry. Turns out that I would probably put it into the bank, continue working and then use it to get my graduate degree. But if I won 100 million dollars, that would change things up a bit.

So let's see what is going to happen... (By the way, if I win $10, how anticlimactic, right? But winning nothing is even sadder. But paying $5 to write this Pulitzer worthy blog entry, worth every penny!) Here we go...

$2 "Little Green Men Doubler" Scratcher- I won $10

Wooooooooooooooooooooooooo. Net gross of $5. Worthwhile for sure!

Since that prediction seemed to work, let me try this: Gosh, winning $13,000 would be kind of boring, but winning nothing would suck.

$2 "Hallowin!" scratcher- The prizes available to me are: $15/ $13,000/ $50/ $15/ $30/ $13,000/ $30/ $1,000/ $50/ $3

Now I need to scratch off my winning numbers that correspond to which prize I get. This is exciting.

My winning numbers are 21. Hmph.. No corresponding prize. The other is 9. Damn. Well, ten bucks is ten bucks. Ya know what I am saying? I do think I would be an excellent lottery winner. I am going to play the big one on Friday. Then I will change the name of my blog to "Rich Bugger".

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

I have been a resident of this area most of my life.

There is a part of me that really is not fond of the personality type that seems to exist and thrive in Washington DC. I dislike how people don't seem to look out for each other. Everyone is only interested in how they can get ahead, and if you get in the way, well, there is a great possibility that you will be steamrolled. (And I don't mean in a super cool, Strange Brew kind of way.) The worst part of that is that the steamroller probably won't even notice (or care) that they ran you over. You notice it on sidewalks were people make no attempt to walk in a way that shares the sidewalk. You notice it on the metro where everyone is shoving to get on, never letting anyone off.
Washingtonians tend to think of themselves, not taking any notice of the things going on around them. It frustrates me.
But last night I was reminded of the best of the city. Sitting at a rooftop bar with a view of the Washington Monument and a fiery sunset over one of the most beautiful cities I have seen. Watching Marine One drop off one of the First Daughters, perhaps and then fly off again. Hanging out and laughing until my abs were ripped with some of the people who remind me that DC can be pretty awesome, even when the jackass (who reminded me of the why I hate DC, and I don't mean the blogger by that name) at the next table was living up to his name.

Damn, girls. You make me laugh. Thanks.

In attendance:
Velvet, DCSC, Sweet, Heather, Law-rah, Mappy B, and the Doll

Oh, and this girl:
Marci

Why does my blog hate Marci? I had her in my original list, and it erased her. So I entered her in as the socially awkward one, and blogger was still bitter. I hope it shows that Marci was enjoying the pretty night in DC with us now, because dude, Blogger is a bitter beeyotch.