just home from drive to charlotte. stayed an extra bit, ostensibly to finish the homestudy in a wifi coffee shop of some sort. gps is not working (though the helpful folks at garmin are fixing thru mail for free, those sweeties), so the wifi was a must if i was going to get home (or heaven forbid i could buy a gas station streetmap of charlotte and just do it raw). no coffee shop presented itself directly. was looking for a starbucks (you can always trust a chain to be consistent). found none. it dawned on me that there are ritzy and non-ritzy chain stores, and that i had wandered to that plebian non-starbucks part of town. finally found 'wired coffee espress.' had a thought as i was walking in that, were this an episode of 'the office,' i would find it funny if the character playing me discovered that there was no wifi inside, despite the store's hinting moniker. there would be hilariously irritable banter about the name being pun-ridden but not really pun-ridden at all if the shop didn't make good on the 'wired' part. but turns out they had wifi.
there's nothing i can eat at a coffee shop. i'm not eating gluten and don't drink coffee. i just buy something because i feel bad taking up space otherwise. i got a vanilla italian creme soda, which turns out is full of half & half. i drank one of the halves. instead of finishing the homestudy, i checked email: $10 tickets to anthony hamilton if i buy them today; someone wants to meet me on WAYN.com; update on the new website server migration. battery low. sugar daze. kids assembling for some kind of hip youth group meeting. creme soda to trashcan, back in car. somehow, 3 1/2 hours had passed since i left the family meeting.
the hazy daze fully entered. the 5:30pm, hot, translucent, salivary flux-liquid that oozes over head and faculties and allows no wilful task to be completed, was upon. drove to cramerton, all the way into its 'lovely historic downtown'. under a few bridges. sat in parking lot. changed mind about charming detour. turned round. looked for hwy 321, still routed on googlemaps from when i was wired. squinted to look at street names. swerved. saw signs for I-85 and opted for instead. when there's a sign that says "TO I-85", you can't trust it to mean that I-85 is anywhere within 10 miles of you.
in the maze, found a jack-in-the-box chain . they have sourdough bread (you can always trust a chain to be consistent), and i can eat that (somehow the sourdough enzyme breaks down the gluten... yada yada). plus, breakfast sandwiches served all day. they had the most hilarious banner! "Treat yourself to something special. Not a massage or anything, just what's on the menu." people my age have taken over the advertising business.
made it home. here, i can rely on wifi because i pay dearly for it on a monthly basis. voila: a blog entry.
Asundry thoughts by Stephanie Morgan, the singer for Stephaniesĭd, pop-noir band from Asheville, NC.