Spicy chicken, and friendly strangers. Life ain't bad!

I left home as scheduled.  A few minutes into the drive north, I needed warmth.  Another couple of minutes, I wanted to stretch.  In no time at all, I felt awfully sleepy.  My head bobbing kind of sleepy.

That is not me at all to feel sleepy when driving.  Perhaps a sign that I am getting older, I told myself.  Thus, a little more than 30 minutes into what would be at least a four-hour drive to the destination, I exited and came to a stop along a farm road.

And slept.

For an hour.

In my car, under a pleasant sun filling the car with light and warmth through the sunroof.  One of the best sleeps I have ever had.  As I woke up, I wished there was somebody to hand me a cappuccino and cookies.  It was a farm road, not a fairyland!

The result: after getting myself coffee and snacks, and by the time I got past the evening traffic that was quickly building up, I was almost three hours behind the hour that I had planned on reaching the hotel.

No stress; this is what life is. 

When I reached the restaurant where the crowd had gathered, the waiters were serving the main course.  I said hi to a few in the crowd, and told Michael that I would grab something to eat somewhere else.

He graciously offered to split his food with me.  I thanked him, and said no.  "You might want to try the restaurant that is right by the hotel" he suggested.  "I don't know how pricey it is, but I was told that the food is very good there."

I didn't care to look at the menu posted outside. "No reservations, and it is for one" I told the staff as she started scanning the register.

She looked around.  "I can seat you right away at the counter."

There was a couple there, and I sat on a chair, leaving the customary one-seat space.

As I scanned the menu, I felt the couple or the woman looking at me.  I turned towards her and said hi with a smile.

She gave me a huge welcoming smile and so did the man who was with her.  It just felt so good.

"You cannot go wrong with anything you choose from this" she said.  And before I could ask them, came the clarification: "we are regulars here, and we love the food and the people."

Pointing at a woman who was serving at a table, she said that was a co-owner.  She kidded around with the waitresses. 

I told her I was thinking of ordering the chicken pepperoncini.  "That is what my husband had" she replied.  The waitress brought them the take-away boxes.  "It is a lot of food though, and this will be our lunch for tomorrow."

As they proceeded to leave, the husband joked with the waitress that I was thinking of ordering French toast and that he had recommended to me a plain bagel.

"They are wonderful gals" the woman told me.  "They will take good care of you."

"When you are so wonderfully friendly, I am sure they will" I replied.

"That was so nice of you. Thank you."

They left, after giving a big and warm hug to the waitress.

I ordered the chicken pepperoncini. With a salad.

"Sounds good. It'll be slightly spicy."

I nodded my head.

I wished that the couple hadn't left, and that they were around to chat with me.

Me and a pickup artist at Stabrucks!

For all the coffee drinker that I am, I rarely ever go to Starbucks.

Because, the dark roast there kills all the subtle flavors that are otherwise present if the beans are not burnt down to charcoal.  Neither am I a fan of all the different concoctions they produce with coffee as the base--as I often remark to people, with all the cream and sugar, those are desserts not coffee!

Yet, I have a Starbucks gift card in my wallet.  I have had it for two years, actually.  A graduating student, who was moving to Wales with his Welsh wife, gave me that Starbucks card as his gift--because he, like most students in my classes, knew all too well that I even have a coffeemaker in my office.  One student told me that whenever she came to my office, the aroma made her feel that she was entering a café. 

So, anyway, I retained the gift card more as a trophy.  A reminder that a student thought I was worth having as a professor.  Thus, I never used it.

Until very recently.

I got myself a cappuccino and sat outside the Starbucks store, at a table right outside the door.  It was a gorgeous sunny day, just the right temperature for me sit half in the shade of the parasol while enjoying the sun's rays partially on my body.

At the table to my left were three young adults having a good time, though it looked like they were frequently forcing themselves to do real work.

To my right was a solitary young woman, sipping her coffee and reading.

A solitary young woman, and me.  This is where the pickup happens, you are probably thinking. 

Think again.

A huge pickup, with remarkably over-sized tires and one of the loudest possible engine roars pulled up.  The driver, a woman, was holding a cellphone on one hand, and at the same time trying to park it into a spot that clearly was not intended for vehicle sizes like this one.  I wondered why she didn't want to drive towards the many other vacant parking spots a couple of cars away.

Then, even while holding the cellphone, she started backing into the spot.  Visualize this: huge pickup, driver holding a cellphone on one hand, squeezing into a regular-sized parking spot in between two small cars.

I looked at the solitary woman--she had stopped reading and, like me, was following this action.  And she slowly shook her head, as if to mean, "I cannot believe this!"

Meanwhile, one of the cars was getting ready to pull out, and the driver wisely decided to stay put until this action ended.  The pickup driver expertly eased into the spot.

The license plate says a lot about the driver's attitude, I suppose!

She climbed out of the pickup, continuing her cellphone conversation as she entered the store.  A petite woman she was, in total contrast to the huge pickup.

The solitary woman went back to her reading.  I was practically done with my cappuccino, which was not all that exciting.  After taking a couple of photos, I walked towards my vehicle.

Soon, I was back on the road, looking forward to going home where I can brew coffee to my tastes, and enjoy it in peace.