Caving in to a fast food craving, I pick out a table as far as I can from the teenage girl describing to her friends exactly how wasted she got the night before, while Judy waits at the counter for our tacos. The next customer orders. The cashier asks: “for here or to go”. He pauses, answers, then turns to Judy to ask: “What difference could it possibly make?” Judy volunteered that maybe they needed to know whether to put his food on a tray or put it in a sack. He said: “It’s a coke!” The more he thinks about it, the more agitated he gets. His coke shows up at the counter. He can’t help himself. He asks the cashier: “It’s a coke! What is the difference between here or to go?” The young kid at the counter patiently explains to him: “Some people want to eat their food here, some would rather take it with them.” Speechless, the customer left.
Along the way
Meanwhile…
… we just heard from some friends in the mountains that it had warmed up from seventeen below to a balmy three below.
Winter
I’m tired of weather in the thirties; sitting in the coach with the furnaces running. I’m threatening to move south, but there is not much south left… not without exposing ourselves to a whole new set of jury duty difficulties, what with the language difference and all….
Winter on the beach
Last night the power went out but we had our Y2K plan in place: plenty of water and fuel, battery backup for electricity, and a generator to recharge if we needed it. We’re set for weeks. Only needed a few hours before the electricity came back on, though. The wind and rain have diminished. Temperature still in the thirties.