Java Thoughts
My Starbucks Drive-Through Person Called Me “My Love”
I’m a firm believer in consent before pet names
I’ve never been one for being called “sweetheart” or “hon(ey)” by a complete stranger, especially when that stranger is younger than me. Living in the South, it’s not so uncommon to receive the “bless your heart” politeness that makes Dallas one of the more hospitable cities to visit.
A lot of this “hospitality” is forced, even if it is dripping with sweet cream.
But today, I got called a pet name by a total stranger and for once, it wasn’t the worst.
A late start
One of my dogs has the poops. It started last night. When Bella Jo began to whine at the door at 2:30 this morning, my dutiful partner let her out to do her business (again) and my mind began to race.
Tomorrow I’m taking my other dog to an appointment to see if he has cancer. Wednesday I’m getting the second half of a root canal. Now, Bella Jo had the poops.
I couldn’t get back to sleep.
Normally, I am up and out of bed at 5:00, but I was trying so hard to sleep I lost track of time. When I got out of bed at 6:20, I felt exhausted and sloggy.
I stretched and drank my greens, then sipped at one cup of coffee nog until it was time to go to my water aerobics class. I had successfully stumbled around a bit without accomplishing anything.
Struggling
Water aerobics happened. I had done one thing. Woo. I got out of the pool to see a sign in front of the women’s locker room. It said: Men working in women’s locker room.
The lady next to me said, “I guess we’ll have to skip the showers.”
Absolutely not, I thought. I have things to do. I have literal shit going on.
I showered and padded my way through the locker room wrapped in a large towel I had purchased on a beach in Puerto Vallarta. I thought of my mother who gave me the gall to be unafraid of my own nudity. I loved her for it as I dressed.
I returned to the pharmacy. Oh, right. I had tried to go to the pharmacy before I went to the gym, but apparently my local pharmacies open at the same time as my aerobics class. In no time, I had done two things. Double woo.
More brown stuff?
But while I was at the pharmacy desk, I opened my clutch to find that a chocolate truffle had exploded inside.
“Can I see your insurance card please?”
“Sure.” I reached in and my hand came out covered in Lindt. Nice.
Also covered in Lindt: nail file, sunglasses polishing cloth, free-foating emergency Hello Kitty Bandaid, key and car fob, tiny bottle of ibuprofen that was empty — what?, two lipsticks, three cough drops, a chapstick, and all of my important cards.
The inside of my clutch looked destroyed. It was familiar, like something else I had been dealt earlier in the morning. Thankfully, I didn’t put my hand in that earlier mess. All of the brown.
It’s 11am
I’m a breakfast and coffee kind of woman. Every day, I breakfast and I coffee. Before 9am, I am usually satisfied and humming with sustenance and caffeine. That was not the case today.
It was 11:00am. I had gotten up, gone to the pharmacy, worked out, gone to the pharmacy, gotten poked, and still, I had not had breakfast or enough coffee to fuel my day. As I was passing Starbucks, I whipped in.
No egg nog?
“Can I get a Grande Cold Brew with a bit of egg nog?”
The voice on the other end was so friendly. She had asked me how I was doing as I pulled up and waited for the answer. “I’m sorry, we didn’t get egg nog this year.”
“NOOOOOOOooooooooooooo…” I shook my fist semi-dramatically.
“I know, I know,” she said. “It’s so sad.”
“I’ll just have it black then.” I had egg nog at home to add to my brew. “And a bacon gouda sandwich please.” She told me the total and I drove ahead.
When I got to the window, she was smiling. “It’s only four dollars! The person behind you paid part of your order.”
“Omg, that is the sweetest! I’ll take that bit of love.” I told her about my chocolate disaster, leaving out the rest. “I really needed a pick-me-up this morning.”
Her eyes were kind and connected to mine when she said her goodbye and called me “My love” at the end of it.
I think I’ll keep her
Sometimes, humans make me feel so enamored. There’s this line from Casper, The Friendly Ghost back in the 90s. Casper hasn’t met humans before and he falls in love with Christina Ricci’s character who is a young girl.
He becomes enamored with her presence and whispers in her ear something that made me want to cry the last time I watched it:
Can I keep you?
This occasion was this year. My partner and I do movie marathons every month. It was October so we decided Halloween Movie Marathon was in order. I hadn’t seen Casper in years. It was one of my favorites growing up.
When I heard him whisper that line into her ear, I remembered with such vibrance what it felt like hearing it for the first time. My feminist is stamping a bit, but it wasn’t what he said that made me remember myself as a child. It was the way he said it.
The first time I heard him say it, I was young and could only dream of a love in existence that felt so true, so awe-inspired and accepting.
This woman was younger than me and she called me a name that wasn’t entirely appropriate or desired, but the way that she said it made me feel seen.
I don’t know if I needed to be called “My love” this morning, but I needed someone like her to notice me and my tough morning.
I think I’ll keep her.
Thank you, friend. For the caffeine, the sustenance, and the love.
I’m Brett Jenae Tomlin, The Anxious Enthusiast.
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