Titled: Repeating things your mother says.
I was at the Starbucks drive through today (only because I have a gift card, I'm too cheap otherwise), I gave my order of a small (I refuse to say tall) non-fat latte, and the ever-so chipper Starbucks guy said, "That sounds scrumptious!!!! I'll whip that up for you right away!!!! Pull around and I'll give you your total."
I swear that I heard birds chirping as rainbows were being painted across the sky by magical fairies.
I convinced myself that the sugar from the 500 mochas he must have consumed that day had ravaged his brain. That had to be the excuse for his enthusiasm.
When I pulled up to the window, the chipper kitten handed me my drink. He looked really nice. Really, really nice. And I felt bad for thinking bad thoughts about him and for obnoxiously rolling my eyes 86 times while he was taking my order. (I'm in a really bad mood before my morning coffee.)
As he handed me my drink I said, "Thank you so much. You seem like a really nice young man."
Let me repeat that. You seem like a really nice young man.
Let it sink in. You seem like a really nice young man.
I'm officially 82.
And I'm pretty sure that I hid my face, while poking myself in the eyeball as I drove away in disbelief.
And I'm pretty sure he rolled his eyes 86 times while I drove away for the following reasons: I might have been a little rude to him. I hadn't washed my hair in 5 days. I had two screaming babies in the backseat. I was the youngest looking 82 year old he'd ever seen. And I said... You seem like a really nice young man.
Until next time...