mrs-roboto's Diaryland Diary

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The Glass Menagerie Performed Entirely By Nudists

When I first arrived in Seattle back in 1997, I had never heard the word barista nor did I give a damn about lattes and mochas. I was a cup of joe kind of girl, a regular at New York's Chock Full of Nuts, but like all living things I evolved to better suit my environment. By the time Pete arrived on the scene and made the mistake of offering to go pick up some coffee on a lazy Sunday morning, I was ordering like a pro.

"Oh yes get me a double shot, soy latte, light on the foam please with a splash of caramel�.."

His eyes nearly bugged out of his head but these were the golden days of our romance when neither of us could do any wrong so rather than tease the hell out of me (as he rightfully should have) he brought back two and enjoyed one himself. From that point forward we were both beyond hooked on the bourgeois beverages.

In the days before homeownership (back when we lived like rockstars), we'd stop everyday on our way to work at a drive up coffee shack and get our fix. We'd spend $6.00 or more before 8:00 AM! We had the same barista forever, and at some point she started letting us in on little details of her life. It started innocently enough.

"I'm so hungover," she'd complain.

"Oh," we respond sympathetically with small smiles and drive off.

I guess I should tell you that this gal did not make the best java. In fact, her lattes were passable at best but her shack was on route and so we kept going there.

One morning she told us that his was not her real job. That she was in fact an actress. I told her that her role as a barista was very believable and that she worked well with props.

"No, no," she said. "I really am an actress. Does nudity bother you," she asked.

"Umm, it depends." I really didn't want to have my coffee served to me by a naked chick every morning.

"Well," she whispered, "I am in a play with this experimental theater group. It's a modernized version of the Glass Menagerie performed entirely by nude actors. You guys should come."

Pete and I passed on her invite and soon thereafter started making our coffee at home but this morning in a fit of forgetfulness due entirely to a personal coffee bean shortage, we found ourselves back at her shack.

"Hi guys," she exclaimed. "How's it going?" She removed her shirt leaving on a tank top that revealed her hairy armpits. She then started repeatedly running her fingers through her matted hair and scratching her head. Basically, in the five or so minutes we watched her she broke every "hygiene around food" rule in the book and suddenly I didn't feel so bad that Pete and I can't afford to do the coffee thing every single day.


In the fitness arena, I wanted to let you all know training for the triathlon is moving along just fine. My biggest fear, being unable to run the 3.1 miles, has actually subsided as I can now run even further than that. I was over at Peachy's house this last Sunday borrowing some gear and she mentioned the great thing about running is that you can make a remarkable improvement in a fairly short time and it's totally true because less than six months ago I could barely run a mile. Go me!

I still have yet to practice swimming but Peachy lent me a super slick wetsuit that I have been wearing around the house with my goggles and my swimcap. Last night, I put on my ensemble and baked a loaf of banana bread. If I can do that, swimming a half mile should be easy.


So I have a question to ask. Pete came up with an idea last night that I think would be truly hilarious. He thought that the two of us should go to various churches in our area and post online reviews of the services. We'd call it something like Church Reviews from the Atheists. We could rate the hymns, the readings, the preachers, etc. Now would this be funny or simply damn me to hell in a handbasket? As if I care.

8:47 a.m. - 2004-05-19

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