I've spent no less than three consecutive
You'll remember Rawr, my subordinate cookie co-chair (longest name ever) and I are in charge of all things cookie. This evening we set off with a map, one permission slip (Seriously. For two grown adults) and twelve minutes to spare and headed off to Cookie Headquarters. Rawr was driving (in the rain) to the unfamiliar part of town and we quickly realized that we then had only minutes to get to our location that was fifteen minutes away. Add in every red light in the nation and we were soon ten minutes behind.
Eventually , we rolled up to the address and peered through the chain link fence at a huge warehouse with a bunch of trailers parked everywhere.
Rawr: What the heck is this?
Me: Prison. Do you see any crazy minivan moms? Where is everyone?
Rawr: Did you check the address?
Me: Yeah, this is it. Go around back.
Rawr drove us into the back lot where there was a fleet of minivans. And not a single soul.
Rawr: ....
Me: Uhm....
I spotted a shady looking character rummaging through a tool box in the back of a semi trailer. He stared at us and then disappeared into the trailer.
Me: I'm not asking him. You do it.
Rawr opted to just get out and walk around (probably accepting the fact that she would eventually be bludgeoned to death by Creep Dude's hammer) while I tried to phone our troop leader (who wasn't answering). Our permission slip instructed that we join in a line to pick up our cookies so we were expecting to see a line of cars or something. Finally, we spotted a dark figure dressed in a parka hauling boxes around the far corner of the building.
Rawr motioned me over and we entered the warehouse.
Me: Ho-lee shiznit.
For behold, there was a metric crap ton of cookies. Do you know what two million boxes of cookies looks like? Here. I'll show you.
 |
| How do I get THAT in THERE? |
So yeah. I've never seen so many boxes of deliciousness in one place. Our troop leader screamed a hallelujah that we'd made it (apparently she has no faith in either of us), we loaded up and went on our way.
Rawr was having trouble seeing out the back window. She had to sit on two cases of cookies and I wasn't much help because I was encased in boxes myself. I'm serious. They had to pack me in. I could barely turn my head. It was like a cookie coffin.
We had to drive the Cookie-mobile to the leaders house, drop them off, dash back to my house, grab the two girls, get to the troop meeting, run back to Rawr's house, trade her vehicle for Gary's truck (can't let it sit too long! The battery could die!) get Rawr's cookie sheet and then we decided to get a coffee to reward ourselves for being over-taxed and hugely irritable for driving all over tarnation.
Except Starbucks in Safeway was closed. Fine. We drove to the closest location (about half a block) and Rawr told me to hit the drive through.
No problem, I told myself. Rawr doesn't know that even though I managed a drive through restaurant for most of my adult life, I cannot order correctly to save my soul. I'll just wing it.
Welcome to Sarbucks, can I take your order?
Me: Hey. Heh. Um. I'll have one um... (whisper) Rawr, what did you say yours was again?
[blank stare from Rawr that says we're no longer friends, you lame dummy]
R: A white mint mocha (or something, I still can't remember what the heck it was!)
Me: She'll have a hot.. mint.. mocha.. venti white coffee. Thing.
[static] What?
Me: Heh. Um, I'm sorry, I'm really terrible at this. I'm probably your worst customer. Uhm. Heh.
[I glance at Rawr who is looking at me like I'm some alien nut job who's never hit a coffee shop before. I'm a home brewer! I don't visit coffee shops!]
You want a white peppermint mocha?
Me: YES! THAT! Right there!
And for you?
[HUH? I have to order something else? GAAH!]
Rawr: Oh! Get two of those birthday cake pop thingies.
[I repeat Rawr's request]
Okay. Anything else?
Me: I'll have a black coffee with a shot of mocha in it.
Huh?
Me: A drip coffee? Um, hot? And black. Except with chocolate syrup in it. Yeah? [I start speaking to her very clearly in hopes that she thinks I'm on a short bus and she won't spit in my drink]
Okay, do you want any cream?
OHMYGAWD. Does she mean spit? Is she going to spit in my coffee? Oh, gross. GROSSGROSSGROSS.
Me: Yes. A little. Thank you! And sorry. Sorry about... all of... that.
We pull to the window, I smile super big, the chick smiles back and assures me that I was not, in fact, the biggest eejit to ever hit her window and we left.
The cake pops? Ah-mazing. I'm sure there was about a zillion calories in one. Rawr told me to shut up and eat it.
It was yummy. I think I'll go back tomorrow. Only, no coffee this time. I'm not sure either of us could handle it.
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