Adventures at Starbucks

A few weeks ago CNM held a professional development conference, and I presented on electronic essay grading, and since this sort of initiative is new and kind of big deal, the VP for Academic Affairs wanted to thank the presenters. So Thursday I found a nice thank you card in my box, along with a gift card. I love gift cards. But the gift card was to Starbucks.

Now I'm sure Starbucks is a fine place, but it's very out of my comfort zone. I told Summer that few gift cards would be less useful to me than this--maybe something for illegal drugs or ammunition...

But Summer, descended from a line of Starbucks aficionados, insisted that I get her something. She called it a "frozen hot chocolate," which confused me even more. So I stopped by the nearest Starbucks last night while I was out. What ensued was high comedy.

I walked into the sort of place I dread most--hip, dimly lit, quiet, fragrant. My head spun. I looked at the menu board for "frozen hot chocolate," but to no avail. When the barista asked what I wanted, I stammered and contemplated running away. But ever the hero, I stood my ground. I explained my wife's request, which was greeted with a derisive reply, "What?" After what felt like an hour of trying to translate from English to coffee-speak ("I wanted hot chocolate, but cold, and NO COFFEE") and back (she said things like "mocha" and "frappachino"--are these even words?), she said "I can make that."

I walked about, with $6 left on my gift card, holding what seemed to be a two-gallon milkshake topped with a pound of whipped cream. But the look of dread mixed with confusion on my face the rest of the evening (while brushing my teeth I wondered what horrible accident had befallen the white-haired man in the mirror) was classic.

Several years ago, Summer commented that she rarely sees me do something poorly, and the insinuation is that I don't try things I'm not comfortable with. Yesterday reminded me of why that is...