Starbucks, Cream & WordPress

Yes, I’ve re-discovered WordPress. One of the first articles I saw on the WP universe was about being able to come up with something to write about every day. Har! That’s not my problem.

1940s Blonde

Here at the Barnes & Noble Cafe the barista remembers me and also recalls how much cream I take. She’s a third my age–as I quickly remind myself “somebody’s baby girl.” Her thick black hair is done in what looks to me, a 1940s style and I want to run my hands along it like I would a freshly-trimmed hedge.

“How much cream I take” in my pink Starbucks travel mug that keeps me safe while checking out the ladies–for only a gay man would sport a pink cup. Thank God for the pink fight breast cancer ribbons and such as it gives me, my sexual orientation, ambiguity.

Although not anonymity for once in a while a horny gay guy approaches me and hears a “No!” and receives a size ten in the gonads.

No 24-Hour Coffee

Geeze with Phoenix being the fifth largest city in the U.S.A., I still have to drive twenty minutes to get to a Starbucks that is open past 9:00pm on a Wednesday night. Or any night for that matter. And according to their website, there isn’t one Starbucks in Arizona that’s open 24-hours.

The future isn’t quite what it’s been pumped up to be. Especially through cataract-clouded eyes. I think right now here in the United States, we’re at the top of our game. I believe it’s going to be downhill from here, with my children and grandchildren never knowing the compassion, greatness and wealth that was once known as America.

Want to see what we are going to become? Watch the movie Schultze Gets the Blues .

Starbucks interior

At a quarter until 10:00pm this place is hopping.

More and more I’m thinking about writing, being on stage and women. I was discussing with a Facebook friend something about something and I told her (I’m fairly certain it is a her) that what I’ve been doing is that every time I start to get excited about something that might occur in my life (other than the threatened wage garnishment by Chase Bank) get excited about my future–something to affect my life for the better–something to improve my life–something to give my life a tiny bit of meaning or fulfillment, I quickly tamp those feelings down.

What? Because I’ve been disappointed too many times? In 21st Century America?

Life couldn’t be easier. There is no where in the world it is easier to succeed … and I’m complaining?

Bulbs and Glue

Running some errands today. Got a bag of  light bulbs and bottle of glue at Home Depot. Picked up a pair of fluorescent green and sparkly pillow cases at Ross. And a set of $4.99 headphones for watching Netflix streaming on my laptop. (Every time I write ‘laptop’ I think of Grimaldi calling it a ‘flatop.’)

Starbucks

I sit at my old Starbucks on Tatum and Shea and watch young couples walking by outside, rushing by outside, towards dinner at Z’teja’s Grill. I miss going out to dinner. But then again I’m on a diet–but then nowadays, they serve all kinds of diet-able food everywhere–even at McDonald’s.

So my lack of decent income raises its ugly head again.

Via the Net, I saw the first photo in what, 20 years? of my middle-older brother. Since we’re both mythical creatures I can’t share his photo with you. Actually he’s living off the grid so to speak and told me not to publish any photos of him.

A married middle-aged couple to my left and an empty wheelchair, whose driver is seated on the bench talking to another male. Both pairs of Starbucks patrons raising their voices so that I might accidentally hear.

I haven’t been able to stay awake lately even though I’m very regular with my levothyroxine and now that I’m on an HSA (Health Savings Account) I’m fearful of going to visit Dr. Abimelech and finding out I owe his evil collections person a hundred and twenty dollars,  when before it’d been $20 total. I’m for sure not eating enough carbs so that’s probably the problem.

I’ll finally have to break out the Atkins Diet book and read it.

The Facebook experience is sappy my vital bodily fluids (like General Slaughter said in Dr. Strangelove). Everything is so immediate, no thinking required, but it’s more like masturbation because I feel unfulfilled after I spend hours and hours writing to my imaginary Facebook Friends.

I remember spending thousands of Cigna’s dollars going to the psychologist trying to determine why I didn’t seem to care about my downward emotional and financial spiral. Well that was before he levothyroxine made suicide appear as unbelievably nonsensical as it is.

Sadly, while she tried to sell me herbal remedies, she couldn’t ever answer my question. Perhaps her life echoed my own, only she was stuck at a six-digit income level and I at a very low 5-digit one.

I have a feeling the most exciting thing in her life may have been listening to NPR on the weekends.