Drama at the Drive Thru

For years, both Rayman and myself have always turned into a Starbucks parking lot, turned off the motor to the car, unbuckled our seatbelts, opened the car doors, put one foot in front of Theo ither and headed into the coffee establishment.  Now, I know what you’re thinking…”oh, those holier than thou stay-in-shape kinds.  They make such a production out of obtaining a cup of coffee!!”  But nothing could be further from the truth.  Most times that we frequent said coffee establishments, we are in dire need of relief…the type of relief demanding a restroom.

But I digress.

Today, we took Beau to the Sandy River nature preserve where we walked and he ran for two hours.  He splashed in the water, chased a dog into the river, put his cute little face under the water (never had he done that before).  He just ran and ran and when he wasn’t running, he was licking foliage and sniffing other doggies’ calling cards.  He acted like a teenager.  When I mentioned this to the Rayman, his reply was, “Well, when you were fifty, you had a lot of energy too.”  The inference did not go unnoticed…slowing down has occurred.  This had the effect of drugging up old memories and that in turn had the effect of making me feel..well, old.

After we returned to the car, I suggested we run an errand or two and then get a soy chai latte.  My suggestion was readily accepted.  We were both hot and hungry/thirsty.  

In order to find a Starbucks near us (where were we, anyway?), Rayman got into a shouting match with Siri .  After a few takes and retakes on the effort, a Starbucks was located and Glenda, our GPS directed to the place.   That’s when I said, “Let’s do the drive-thrui!!”.  Rayman grumbled but he knew I was right because the Beaumeister was in the back, it was hot, and leaving the dog was not an option.  And besides, I was in the driver’s seat.  

This was our virgin voyage thru a drive-in for coffee.  We drove around the corner and there were two monolithic metal boxes.  The further one away had a fancy menu as it’s display.  Where was the box in which to yell our order?  There wasn’t one that we saw.  Did we drive by it?  Too late, there was no way to back up to the first box because two cars had followed us into the curving path that led to the window.  So, I told Rayman to jump out, retreat to the first box and just stand there and order our drinks.  He did not take kindly to my suggestion…just saying.  However, with panic setting in, he got out of car and said, “I am going inside to get the drinks!”

“No, you can’t do that, I’m in queue.”  

“Ask the woman behind us where the box is”, I enjoined.

“Jeezus, Dianna.”  With that he walked toward the window.  The lady in the window is now yelling at him with instructions.  The lady behind us is yelling at him with her idea of where the box is.  I’m behind the wheel wondering if I can just make a quick getaway and escape this drama that I helped create.  Beau is standing on the backseat taking it all in.

Rayman gets in the car.  “Just drive up to the window.”  I did so meekly.

The young lady inside the coffee house and behind the window greets us as though nothing unusual is transpiring.  

“Hi”, I said.  “Sorry for all the confusion but we have never done a drive thru before and we didn’t know where to order.”, stating the obvious.  

“Oh, don’t worry.  It’s okay.”

Rayman says he wanted a small soy chai latte.  I say, “Make that two.” Which was what I wanted and it had the added benefit of simplifying the order.  

As the order appears seemingly out of nowhere, it is time to pay.  We have Apple Pay.  We have the Starbucks app.  We are so thoroughly modern.  Except, Rayman could not get the Apple Pay to work.  I tried to make it work.  It ddi not work.  While I’m trying to get the Apple Pay to work, I mutter, “I’m really sorry.  We are old and stupid.”  God, why did I say that?  It was quite obvious.  

At this point, it feels like ten minutes have elapsed.  I was afraid to consult my rearview mirror to see the line of cars that may have accumulated while we did our loose interpretation of a Lucy and Desi routine.  

Rayman dug into his wallet and got out a tenspot.  The young lady accepted it with much gratitude, I kept babbling and then she said, “Oh, you are so cute.”  

As we drove away, I said to the Rayman,”I’m not so cute.  Not even close.”  He didn’t disagree.

And then we howled. 


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