FourBux

Sometimes I think technology hates me. And people do, too.

Aren’t computers supposed to make our lives easier? I mean, isn’t that really one of the reasons they were invented? Weren’t people sitting around thinking “Man, all these calculations are hard to do, and now I have to go to the bathroom. Isn’t there some way we can make it so these computations do themselves?”

Since the time that ingenuity answered nature’s call, computers have been here, but I don’t think they’ve been on our side. For example, on Friday afternoon, I picked up Apple’s new operating system 10.5, codenamed Leopard. First off, this is one very cool piece of software. It installed on my laptop in about an hour, with no glitches, except for a setting in the email application that got changed and it took me a while to figure it out. The machine runs smoothly, the cool new features are a blast, and actually streamlines some of the tasks that I have to do on a daily basis. And the cool factor? Easy a nine. A ten would be pushing a button and the laptop transforms into a little friend I could play poker and have a beer with. Nine’s about as good as it gets.

Since it runs so beautifully on my machine, I thought I’d install it on my wife’s computer too. And, since I bought the multiple use license, that was the plan anyway.
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Starbucks is selling breakfast sandwiches. And I’m not okay with that.

I have a problem. My mornings revolve around, well, let’s be honest. They revolve around my previous evening. And since I don’t plan on changing my night time routine any time soon, I have developed a workaround.

And that workaround is to answer the sweet sound of the siren’s call…a trip to the Fourbucks on the way to work. As a general rule, I already try to avoid the stores that have installed a drive through, because I’m not there paying through the nose because I absolutely love their coffee, despite their efforts to infuse it with 50% more caffeine than other coffee to get me hooked, but I visit Fourbucks at least partially because of the atmosphere. It used to be a cool place to hang out, study, read, strike up a conversation with a stranger, but now, eh, not so much. It’s become the equivalent of the swap meet - loud, dirty, and packed with the unwashed masses.

Besides having sales people hawking $300 cappuccino machines and assorted coffee paraphernalia at the door, they of course sell pastries. Which I’m fine with, although if you ever checked out the caloric content of some of their grub it would really cut down on the number of items you eat there. I recently discovered that one of their scones had the same amount of calories as a junior cheeseburger. For that kind of fat content what I’m eating better be hot and have cheese oozing out of it.

In addition to selling things we can use to fill the aching void in our faces, they also schlep music. You like the music you’re hearing while you stand in line like so many sheep? Well, impulse buy it at the counter. Sure, you can download the entire CD from iTunes for $9.99, but we’ll sell it to you for $14.00 - plus you get this giant piece of marketing crap that immediately goes into the trash! It’s a win-win. How about a seasonally themed stuffed animal, handmade with care by some child in Indonesia? Please, think of the children. You don’t want them to get fired, do you?

But I digress. What could very well be the nail in the coffin for me is the new decision to sell “Breakfast Sandwiches.” Is it just me, or are these just Egg McMuffins in a fancy wrapper? Sure, I may not have to order it from my car by shouting through a clown’s mouth, but I could if I wanted to. Is this is just Fourbuck’s way of getting back at McDonald’s for beating their coffee in a taste test? Perhaps. I like to think this is one more way to screw me over on my way to work. It’s bad enough when I get caught behind a real-life Barbie doll who wants a “half-decaf, half regular, dry soy latte with a half a pump of vanilla and a third of a packet of Sweet & Low” but now she wants a hot bacony muffin with egg and cheese too? Perfect. That shouldn’t take add too much time to the line. Didn’t Denny’s have a “ten minutes or it’s free” deal at one point?

Anybody take a second and think this one through? If I actually have time to spend in the store I sure as hell don’t want to spend it in line. This directly hurts my customer experience, and causes my thoughts to wander to other, less-commercialized coffee shops.

Wait a minute, maybe they did think it through. Maybe the underlying goal is to get us to stand in line for more time, thus making more impulse purchases of music, stuffed animals and 47-setting coffee bean grinders.

I’m onto you Siren…don’t make me start making coffee at home.

I don’t want to have to go to bed early.

Game over - I lose

Regardless of the culture from which we hail, there are a few things that tie us together as humans, common threads if you would, that bind us into the adaptable, creative species that we are:

A mother’s touch.

The taste of a good meal.

Money. (I’ll also say maybe beads that one can exchange for other goods and services.)

And that sinking feeling, deep in your gut, that you get when you’re trying to speed across multiple lanes of traffic, you stomp on the gas, only to have the engine stall. You know what I mean. That feeling is closely linked to the warm, wet feeling in your lap as you try to get the car started again before four lanes of oncoming traffic goes all Frogger on your ass.
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So, you’ve heard of this place, huh?

Today, for whatever reason, I woke up with one of those WTF-did-a-bookcase-fall-on-my-head-last-night headaches. Combined with the fact that I’m not a morning person anyway, I was particularly grouchy by the time left the house. Since I was, of course, late, I didn’t have time to swing by the new Starbucks near my house, although on the ride in it occurred to me that a little caffeine may be just what the doctor ordered. I decided to drive fast and make up a little time, whereby freeing me up to stop at the one near my office. You know the one.

By the time I got there, I could barely see, so the order of the day was coffee, black, stat! When I went inside, there were only two people in line in front of me, so I figured it would be quick. Today though, the karma police were about to throw me in jail.

The first person in line, the one at the register, was a little old lady, probably seventy-five years old, and on any other day, probably the sweetest little thing you would ever want to sit and chat with over coffee.Today, however, I wasn’t having any of it. She was speaking to the tattooed/pierced/goateed barista dude that “Well, you know, I’ve heard of this place. I thought I’d come in and try it. You’re never too old to try new things! Can you explain to me what those are?” She pointed to the menu.
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Hmm. That didn’t take long.

We’d been in the new condo a total of 17 days when I noticed some strangeness going in with the paint along the wall near the front door. It seemed like the paint was rippling a little bit. Neither the wife nor I had seen it before, so we weren’t sure if it was new or we now are just seeing it because the lighting in the entry way was enhancing it.

Sure enough, the next day after work, the strange pattern was larger. I snapped a quick picture and sent it off to the owner, along with an “any ideas” email. It was a few days before we could get a maintenance guy out here, and when he got here, the opinion was that the old paint had just separated from the wall, and he would get some guys out to re-do it. Cool with me. That’s why I like renting. Something bad happens, and you call someone else. No trying to figure out what to do about it.
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Doesn’t MSG stand for “Mas Sushi, Gracias”?

I’m not one to often try to do it twice in one day. Blame it on age, stamina, bad day at work, whatever. About three times a week is all I can muster. Of course I’m talking about writing a post for this blog. What?

But my meal today was so, sublime, let’s say, that I had to come back and relay the experience to you. I do have to warn you though: this post contains some generalizations and stereotypical jumps. Not that these are inaccurate, since they have happened to me on more than one occasion, but I just thought you should know going in.
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