August 17, 2005
Why I'm Bald

From frustration comes brilliance.  Or fantasy. It happened just this way. While driving to a meeting a glance at the wristwatch promised 15 minutes to spare.  Just enough time to pick up a latte without being tardy.  

Afternoons are usually not the busiest of times at Starbucks resulting in but one cashier/brewer behind the counter.  But this afternoon found five folks waiting in line, I was number six.  No worries, Starbuck’s customers know how to order and pay with an efficiency matched only by the super server behind the counter.  Until this day. 

Our little coffee procession was humming on 8 cylinders until the lady ahead of me found herself at the counter.  In response to the question, “And for you?” She committed one of the cardinal sins we Type A’s simply cannot tolerate. 

“Well, what do you have?” she inquired.   

 “What do you have?” a question signaling my fate had been sealed.  There was not the slightest chance of making the meeting on time.  Once again a Type B had thrown sand in life’s transmission.  But amidst the indigestion that always boils up when you know the Type B’s have done you in again, came a flash of inspiration.    

Imagine how improved the quality of life would be were “separate but equal” resurrected. In a more orderly life there would always be two lines.  We would have a smooth, efficient line for Type A’s, people who can make a decision, know where they’re going and how long it will take to get there.  The other line would be for the, take your time, isn’t life mellow, who cares if school keeps or not, not have a clue, Type B que.

Two lines would allow one to avoid B’s like Miss “What do you have?”  Any Type A knows Starbucks has had latte’s, espressos, cappuccinos, frappuccino’s and their ilk on the menu board behind the cash register for a decade, information she could have memorized while standing in line. 

With a most patient smile the counter lady turned and read aloud from the menu board while I pondered the possibility of all businesses having two lines.  At grocery stores there would no longer be a “10 items or less” line.  Instead they would feature the Type A line where people never waited until after the groceries were sacked and totaled to start looking for a customer card and checkbook.  Those folks would have to go to the “Sluggards here” Type B check out. 

“What’s a frappaccino?” interrupted the lady in front of me. 

“Why stop with businesses?” I pondered.  We could have “separate but equal” golf courses.  On the Type A course there’s a 15 second limit on lost ball searches, no one is allowed more than a single practice swing per shot and any golfer with a handicap higher than 15 caught squatting and trying to read a putt by squinting while holding his hands to the side of the bill of the cap like Tiger will be immediately banished to the Type B course.  

Back at Starbuck’s, Miss “What do you have?” evidently found the frappaccino description wanting as she interrupted  “What else is there?”  I really, really wanted to show her “what else” but stopped short thinking the presiding judge in my “Customer goes ballistic at Starbucks” trial wouldn’t be as sympathetic as one would hope.  

And then the anonymous tormenter delivered the coup-de-grace.  “Well,” she said, “I can’t decide, I guess I’ll just have a cup of coffee, oh it’s afternoon, you’d better make that de-caf otherwise the caffeine just gets me all amped up.”