Middle-Aged Pigeon Man. I noticed you as the automatic doors opened with a gust and I stepped out of the bus terminal in downtown. There you were, sitting on a park bench with dozens of pigeons swarmed at your feet. Continue reading
Here are a few things that I strongly believe in:
People should have freedom of belief system.
People should have freedom of speech.
People should have autonomy.
Now that being said, let me tell you where I am going with this. I respect people with strong belief systems and I think people should be able to live by them freely and openly. I think they should be able to talk, write, publish, and preach about them. However, my respect and tolerance of these individuals does not mean that they have the right to force others (including me) to live by their own belief system.
Working for Starbucks has its ups and downs. While good health insurance, philanthropic opportunities, and discounts on airlines (among other things) are all benefits that Starbucks provides; the major perk that keeps me going through a stressful day at work is UNLIMITED DRINKS! That’s right, if a barista has to make it, we can drink it for free while on the clock (no free $6 Evolution Juices for me, unfortunately). This lovely situation has allowed me to try, and grow tired of, every drink on the menu board. So what do we baristas do? We experiment. I hate to admit it, but most of my concoctions come out less than stellar. I do have a few winners up my sleeve. Are you itching to try something new at Starbucks but lack the inspiration to begin? Not to worry, without further ado, I present: Continue reading
We haven’t talked about the name of our blog at all. On the surface it may seem that we were just trying to find a clever phrase that would fit the acronym of the letters of our names. This was true in the beginning and we used it as almost a word game, calling out words that began with the right letters and texting them to each other when we thought of a good one.
The problem with trying to be clever is that it normally never ends well and it didn’t in our case. We were trying to find something that would sum up who we are, what we are passionate about, and how we feel. This proved impossible, for as many words as there are in the English language they are usually insufficient to truly express the intangible.
So we were left at a stopping point with no name in sight until we thought of Keeping Just Ordinary Company. The letters fit and for a start that was good enough for us, even if it didn’t mean much. But it has come to mean more.
I got into a conversation with my coworkers today about camping. He-who-must-not-be-named only knows how that subject came up, I think it was because one person had just purchased a tent, but I digress. The point is, I hate camping. There, I’ve said it. I hate camping, I hate sleeping outdoors, in a tent, in a camper, under the stars; I hate hiking and canoeing and fishing; I hate packing a cooler and setting up camp and propane cooking. I just hate it all.
It’s supper time. When I enter the kitchen with the intent to cook, it goes a little something like this: I pour over cookbooks and online recipes for hours (sometimes literally) and try to find an elegant meal that even Mario Batali would envy. I get overwhelmed and find my self (still) with an empty stomach. I then turn to pantry staples: Cereal, bagels, TV dinners. After a while they all start loosing their appeal. Sure I’m full, but am I satisfied? Not really. Continue reading
***Short story, please enjoy! OC
Last Chance Paranormal
Chase tumbled out of the car and onto the ground, throwing up a cloud of dust as he landed. Troy climbed out after him with a wrinkled nose.
“Next time you let loose in the car I won’t wait until it’s stopped to throw you out,” threatened Troy.
What should have been a three hour car ride had turned into a five hour ordeal of misdirection and too many bathroom stops. Simon had insisted on driving and they had all squashed into his beat up Honda Civic, luggage in tow, for their trip to Cripple Creek. He had gotten turned around, even using his GPS. Troy had caused most of the problems, leaning up from the back seat to ask “how damn hard was it” to follow the “freakin’ purple line”. The only one in the party who seemed undisturbed by their lot was Effie, who cheerfully insisted on playing “I Spy” for the duration of the trip.