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----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Waiting at Starbucks Do I really need to send out graduation announcements? If so, how long do I have before it's too late? And how would I word it? I bet her feet hurt. Damn I need new shoes, pants, tops....the list goes on. There are a lot of interesting people here in Chicago. Most of the women are wearing totally ridiculous shoes. Have you ever wondered why? Why do the women do that to themselves? Why do I have blisters on both of my feet from walking around downtown for only half an hour? I'll tell you why. Because of the long pants. Women's pants are cut extra long to make their legs look longer. We're all about the fantasy. Fake boobs, fake eyelashes, fake skin...fake legs. Apparently the optimum length is from a quarter inch to one inch above the ground. This is why we're such freaks about shoes. Well, one of the reasons, anyway. Because this pair of pants only hits the perfect length when I'm wearing this pair of shoes. Starbucks is a fascinating place. But I'm not going to write about it because enough of our culture has been analyzed through the Starbucks filter. Still, Starbucks is where I'm sitting. It's where chaosorder has arranged for us to meet, so here I sit, grateful for the (there's another pair of nasty shoes) barrier of the laptop. The interesting thing to me is that he felt the need to apologize for his choice. As if this place is too trendy to be taken seriously. Which it is. It absolutely is. Shame on all of us for making it so. Ooh...woman cab driver. Cool. So I'm sitting here, right next to the front door, waiting. It's ten minutes to three, and I'm praying the battery will hold out till he gets here. Seems to be draining very quickly lately. Just what I need, another expense. I wonder how much a new battery is? I'll probably just have to carry around the plug until I can afford a new it. Which is so sexy. Pardon me while I take this sleek Mac experience and ruin it by wandering around staring at the lowest one foot of whatever wall I'm next to. I'm almost out of iced chai. This fantastic mass-produced chai from a box. It's almost too sweet for me, which is pretty damn sweet. It's interesting that I feel a little defensive about my chai. As if someone here will know that I'm a mormon from utah, and mormons from utah would look at me very funny if they knew I was drinking *gasp* tea. Tea! From Starbucks! Where they make *gasp* coffee! Five minutes. Do you think he's the sort of person who likes to show up early? I love showing up early, especially when I'm meeting someone for the first time. Today, I was 30 minutes early, but that's because I was testing my software skills (sadly, they don't need nunchuck skills) at the temp agency across the street. When he suggested this particular spot, I wondered if perhaps he was stalking me. I stopped here (at this very spot!) before I went over to the agency, to change my pants. No way was I going to re-blister my blistery spots. I wore jeans and tennis shoes and brought my slacks and heels in my bag. Which is only barely big enough. Ok he's here :) 8:34 p.m. - 2007-09-05 |
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