Holiday Roast
At Starbucks, I excuse myself for a moment to use the restroom. En route, an obstruction presents itself.
The arm of a woman who just can't decide. She reaches from her spot in line to a nearby shelf, admitting guiltily, "I keep switching between these two!" In her hand lies a small-sized package of Starbucks Christmas blend coffee; on the shelf now rests a newly-deposited large one.
She doesn't know she's talking to the queen of indecision. I couldn't number the times I've "switch[ed] between...two."
Between two schools.
Between two languages.
Between two loves.
"I feel you," I laugh affably, and continue to the bathroom.
The arm of a woman who just can't decide. She reaches from her spot in line to a nearby shelf, admitting guiltily, "I keep switching between these two!" In her hand lies a small-sized package of Starbucks Christmas blend coffee; on the shelf now rests a newly-deposited large one.
She doesn't know she's talking to the queen of indecision. I couldn't number the times I've "switch[ed] between...two."
Between two schools.
Between two languages.
Between two loves.
"I feel you," I laugh affably, and continue to the bathroom.
Comments
Post a Comment