I’m at Starbucks sipping on a free venti gingerbread latte. Why is it free? It’s my compensation for having two bags of coffee fall on my melon.
Yesterday was Tuesday and I made my regular barfly roundabouts. My first stop was Happy Tuesday, where I was cheered at and sang to by the regular motley crew. After visiting those guys, I drove to Billy O’s where I was greeted warmly by the entire bar. People hugged me in earnest while my brother shoved his award winning chili in my hand that he brought for everyone to try.
I can NOT tell you enough how much I love being around people who love me. I’m addicted to this feeling of warmth, this cradling, comforting security. Everyone feels like a warm snug blanket. Everyone feels like home.
I can be a sentimental sap – truly the most genuine sentimental sap there can be. But it’s problematic. I’m so addicted to this ethereal love all around that I’m obliquely sensitive to its absence. Sometime’s I forget it’s there and go back to being my old miserable, misanthropic self and because of this, I shall always be a barfly. Barfly is in my bones.
The purpose of this post is to wrap up this warm loving feeling into a gift for my future self. I want to package it up, put a ribbon around it and never forget. But I will forget it. I always do.
- Starbucks and a fun game… (laffycaffi.wordpress.com)
- Starbucks’ Blonde Moment and the Death of Meaning (forbes.com)