Thursday, February 05, 2015

I really, really, really just wanted a cup of hot coffee

My friend, Paula, and her daughter are visiting. The daughter is one of Ramona's besties, so when the family's in town, we temporarily adopt Paula's daughter (whom I'm going to blog-name Miranda Sings for reasons that will probably mortify her mother. Paula, I'm blog-renaming you Miranda's Mother. No arguing.)

So, since I have twelve-year-old twins this week, and I hate cooking anyway, and I didn't feel like cooking, naturally I took everyone out for some disgusting fast food.

I won't target the particular fast food chain, but here's how things unfolded:

Ramona and Miranda and Anne and Betsy ordered some food and stepped aside.

Me? Well, though I hate cooking, I hate eating fast food even more, so I decided to just get coffee. I planned to eat something later at home while I complained to Atticus about cooking and the evils of fast food.

I said to the girl who worked at the evil fast food place, "Do you have any coffee brewed?"

She shook the coffee pot (I could hear some lame, cold coffee swishing around in there) and said, "Yeah, there's a little bit left here."

"Okay," I said, "Here's the thing. I'll have a coffee, but I can wait until you brew a fresh pot."

"Okaaaay," she said, blinking. I should have detected the beginning of confusion.

She started piling food on the tray, while I dug out a credit card. When I looked up from my wallet, there sat a cup of coffee in front of me. Unless I had just stepped into a wormhole, this was the old coffee, not the "I'll wait for it" coffee.

Ramona and Miranda, et al, got their tray and settled in at a table, and I caught the counter girl's attention.

"Okay, so, can I just give this back to you, and I'll wait for the fresh stuff?"

"What?" she squinted at me.

"Well, this is lukewarm -- I'll just wait while you start a new pot."

"It's too warm?"

"No, it's lukewarm."

She squinted again.

"It's not warm," I said. "Not warm."

She cocked her head, her mouth hanging slightly open.

"It's not hot. Isn't hot," I said, grasping for something that expressed not-hot more simply than, well, say, "not hot."

"It's unhot. I'd like a hot cup of coffee, so I'll wait."

"Do you want it in a cup?"

"Yes, a cup would be nice." (I may have been nodding desperately at this point.)

"Okay. I'll have to brew some."

I nodded again. Emphatically. "Ok, sure, that's a good idea," I said. "I'll be at that table over there, okay?" My eyes were wide, and probably wild. Had we fully established contact? Would a hot cup of coffee be forthcoming?

She blinked and turned away in the general direction of the coffee pot.

A couple minutes later, she brought me a coffee.

In a cup.

And it was hot.

I'm pretty sure someone probably spit in it, but it was really hot. Maybe even lukehot.


Sarah said...

Oh my goodness! That was so funny! I was laughing out loud! And whenever I laugh out loud, I realize I don't laugh enough ... Thank you for sharing!

Karen Edmisten said...

Thanks, Sarah! It occurs to me that I could have described the coffee as "cold" but since it wasn't actually cold, but was lukewarm, I became obsessed with communicating this truth to her. :)

Haley @ Carrots for Michaelmas said...


Jennie Cooper said...

We frequent a sandwich chain, where I have our foot-longs cut into four pieces. I said to the sandwich artist, as she got done loading on the veggies, "Cut it in quarters, please."

She looked at me blankly. "Quarters? Is that three?"

"No... it's four," said I, suddenly thankful that we were homeschooling.

Since quarters are apparently too difficult, I began asking that they cut my sandwiches "in fours". That went pretty well, until another fellow looked at me nervously and said, "I don't think I know how to do that."

I raised an eyebrow, but smiled and instructed, "You just cut them in half and then in half again."

So then, since cutting in fours was apparently too difficult, I started asking them to cut my sandwiches in half and then in half again. That went pretty well, until, one day, I got a smarty pants who looked at me with some amusement and said, "You mean, in quarters?"

turtlemama said...

I have not laughed this hard in a long time. I read the story to my husband, and by the time I got to the "do you want a cup" part I had tears streaming down my face and could barely breath. Great way to end a busy day.

Karen Edmisten said...

tm, so happy to share the laugh with you!

Jennie, that's so funny, too, and reminds me of how McDonald's used to be about ice cream.

Me: Small ice cream, but my daughter doesn't like the cones, so can I have it in a cup, please?

The Enemy: I'm sorry, we can't do that.

Me: What do you mean? I just don't want the cone. Just put it in a small cup please.

The Enemy: We aren't allowed to do that. I have to put it in a cone, then stick the cone upside down in a cup.

Me: But we don't even want the cone. You can keep the cone.

The Enemy: That's not how we do it. I have to give you the cone.

Me: ?????

The Enemy: Do you want fries with that?