“How’s your day going?” So many friendly exchanges begin with this question. But today, I’d say, ask me anything else. I got up more or less on time even though my husband said up front that we were out of coffee. We had some ancient ground espresso in the freezer for our stove top espresso which is fifty miles away at our new digs right now. I figured that I would use that in our French Press. Desperate times call for desperate measures, right? 

Actually, no. Just do without the coffee until you can get out to a store or an espresso stand. That’s my advice after running this experiment. 

So we are moving. That’s great! But if I was ever in doubt about the wisdom of this move, this morning’s brief trip to the grocery store has removed that doubt. Sunday, 10:00 a.m., ought to be uneventful, right? My first stop at the store was the in-store coffee bar. As I got to the counter to order, the barista was just finishing up a sign that said, “Closed.” It seems that she was the only person who turned up for work today, and nothing was ready for customers. She was closing so she’d have time to put pastries and other food items in the display case and basically get the shop ready for customers.

Since I got there before she got the sign up, and I only wanted to buy beans that she could grind, she took my order. I reached for my phone, which has my coffee app, my wallet app, and my store card. Damn! I’d left my phone at home. Fortunately, I had my actual, physical wallet with the actual physical coffee card and another credit card. So I paid with real plastic, took my freshly ground coffee, and proceeded to look for the other items on my short list.

Croissants, check. Bananas, check. Ice cream, check. But where the heck are they hiding trash bags? I asked three people who guided me to various aisles that turned up empty. Fourth person, bless her heart, knew right where they were. So trash bags, check. 

Then, as I was making my way to the checkout counter, I saw a security guard closely following a bedraggled person with a handful of items. I’m guessing he recognized her because there are enough bedraggled people in my neighborhood that store security couldn’t possibly tail them all. In any event, she bypassed the checkout counter and headed for the door. She was told to either pay or leave her items behind, at which time she started screaming and accusing the guards of bad behavior, knocked over flowers on display thus creating a great pool of water in the entrance, and made a commotion that I’m sure you can picture. Hard to say if she was actually injured at any time in the process, but as I left the store a few minutes later, two cop cars and an aid care were at the entrance.

This is the same store, mind you, at which an assault on a employee about a year ago led her to transfer to a different location. I saw her at her new store one day and said I recognized her from my neighborhood store. She said she was still recovering from the assault there several months earlier. 

Nothing truly awful happened to me directly today, but there was one final bit of frustration: once I got home and opened a bag of coffee to make a new pot of actual French Press, the beans looked more like fine gravel than the usual somewhat coarse grind I’m used to. Good news, though. They work a lot better than the ancient espresso. So now I can chill for a few minutes with a decent cup of coffee – and then get busy packing again. 

How’s your day going?

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