I guess nothing can last forever.
Unfortunate miscommunication at Starbucks this morning. I was distracted by my ipod while standing in line, so I didn’t hear when the girl I like (barista?) tried to take my order. When she finally got my attention I looked up, smiled, joked with her, and ordered my drug of choice.
While swiping my card she asked me what I was listening to, and I replied, “Ryan Adams.”
I realized after walking away that she thought I said Bryan Adams.
Oh god. I had to fight the urge to make a mad dash back to the register (à la Ralphie's encounter with Santa Claus in A Christmas Story), push past the customers currently placing their orders, and desperately clear up that horrifying confusion.
I mean come on. My love of sensitive, whiny, alt-country/folk music is gay enough. But Bryan Adams? Jesus. I might as well move to Vegas and start stalking Celine Dion. Or better yet, what’s Richard Marx up to these days?
While swiping my card she asked me what I was listening to, and I replied, “Ryan Adams.”
I realized after walking away that she thought I said Bryan Adams.
Oh god. I had to fight the urge to make a mad dash back to the register (à la Ralphie's encounter with Santa Claus in A Christmas Story), push past the customers currently placing their orders, and desperately clear up that horrifying confusion.
I mean come on. My love of sensitive, whiny, alt-country/folk music is gay enough. But Bryan Adams? Jesus. I might as well move to Vegas and start stalking Celine Dion. Or better yet, what’s Richard Marx up to these days?
posted by P/O at 5/25/2005 12:50:00 PM
2 Comments:
Oh God, no. Please no Bryan Adams :) Ha. I think I would've run back just to clear up my name :) But I never give out my real name at Starbucks. So you should be okay.
If she gives you a weird look next time or frowns at your iPod, you should wiggle your eyebrows and whisper "Nelson rocks my fucking socks off! Yes! After The Rain!"
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