|Knowing what you want — just a plain cup of coffee, please! (standard:Inspirational stories, 912 words)|
|Author: Godspenman||Added: Apr 29 2012||Views/Reads: 1344/748||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|Through the years, I have discovered two important facets of husbandship that has stood me in good stead for many years: a vigorous nod of the head and a rhapsodic “Yes, dear.” Flowers don’t hurt either.|
Through the years, I have discovered two important facets of husbandship that has stood me in good stead for many years: a vigorous nod of the head and a rhapsodic “Yes, dear.” Flowers don't hurt either. When our recent visit in Ohio concluded, we headed for the airport. I do not mind traveling, but my least favorite mode is the airplane. The reason being, of course, is the airport itself. In my opinion, someone devised the modern airport to intimidate the average traveler. Arriving at the airport, we immediately headed for the ticket counter where we received our boarding passes. Then we surrendered our luggage to the personnel behind the counter, not knowing if we would ever see that same luggage again in our lifetime. Someday I hope to visit all the places my luggage has seen. Next, we made our way through the security booth. As you know, they do not permit metal through this gate. If a passenger passes through and a buzzer goes off, he is summoned back for guards to examine his personal effects to detect the offensive object. I went through about 17 times. Not until I got down to my underwear did the security personnel determine there must be a defect in the radar detection equipment. (I plan to file my briefs in a Florida court this week.) Finally, we left the security area and I started feeling a little more confident until we came to a big sign over the entryway. My wife and I found little comfort in the words written: Terminal Entrance. Contrary to their “friendly” little sign, I did, in fact have plans of returning. Our flight plan called for a two hour stopover before arriving at our final destination. Nothing quite compares to spending a free hour or two at an airport. Did I say “free?” Allow me to recount that opinion. There is absolutely nothing free at an airport. I cannot prove it, but I am sure they have figured out a way to charge for the air we breathe. For instance, a 15 cent cup of coffee can cost in the neighborhood of $17.95. I don't even like visiting that neighborhood. If I lived there, I would move. However, being the good natured, charming individual that I am, it does not take much to make me happy. All I need to allay any stress is a simple cup of coffee. Have you ever noticed how things seem to go a lot easier with a steaming jolt of java? With a full hour to spare at the airport, my wife and I looked for something to occupy our time. Then I espied the perfect diversion. With a mischievous twinkle in my left eye, I looked at my wife and said, “Let's get a cup of coffee and relax a while.” One thing I can always count on my wife, she knows a good thing when she hears it. Unfortunately, she does not hear it too often from my lips. Walking over to the coffee shop and, being the man, I approached the counter to place our order. “I would like two regular coffees,” I said with anticipation to the young woman behind the counter. The thing that makes a man a man is that he always knows what he wants. It is that confidence that separates the men from the boys. The young woman looked at me, snapped her chewing gum several times and said in a monotone, “Marvelous, you want espresso or cappuccino?” “No, Miss,” I replied as cool and sophisticated as any gentleman you will ever meet. “No, Miss. We just want two plain coffees.” She looked at me as only a waitress behind a counter can and rattled off names I have never heard before. As best I could understand, they were flavors or kinds of espresso coffee. Finally, when she took a breath I jumped in and said with all the confidence I could muster without compromising my good nature, “No, Miss. I don't want any espresso, just a regular cup of coffee.” Click here to read the rest of this story (32 more lines)
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