"She was lucky the Gotham staff is so nice. My local coffee shop is so anti-Starbucks that they would have told her to take a hike the second she said the word 'tall.' -- a coworker
I've written about my favorite coffee shop -- a warm, privately-owned, completely unpretentious place with superbly friendly baristas -- before. It's as different from Starbucks as you can get... but apparently some people still get confused. I overheard the following conversation while I was adding milk to my coffee this morning:
Patron: I'd like a tall soy misto, please.
Baristo: Pardon?
Patron: A tall soy misto.
Baristo: I'm sorry, I don't know what that is.
Patron: Sorry -- a SMALL soy misto.
Baristo: Yep, got that part.
Patron: Okay.
[Pause.]
Baristo: So... is that just coffee with soy?
Patron: Steamed soy.
Baristo: Ah, so a soy cafe au lait!
Patron: Yeah. Whatever.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Safety first!
"Always wear expensive shoes. People notice." -- Brian Koslow
Last night, Dan told me that a combination of snow and rain covered the sidwalks of DC with an eighth of an inch of slush, i.e. "just enough to make you slip and die." I replied that NYC was due for the same disgusting weather today. We discussed the treacherous conditions, strategized how to navigate them without running the risk of cranial fractures, and ended the conversation by telling each other to stay safe.
This morning, one of my colleagues told me a story from her walk to work. As she trudged through the sleet from the bus stop to clinic, she couldn't help but stare at the woman about to cross her path. Or, rather, at the woman's feet. Alone in a sea of miserable boot-clad commuters, this daring lady was wearing sky-high purple suede heels and was blithely hopping over puddles and ice floes en route to her destination.
My colleague stared at the woman for a moment, then realized that she recognized her. She punctuated this part of the story by shooting a glance at my feet and quirking an eyebrow.
Ahem.
In my defense, I was just popping fifty feet across the street for a meeting! And the sky-high purple suede heels are made by Melissa... meaning they're injection-molded from flexible polyvinyl chloride and are thus nonslip and waterproof! And I did wear sneakers for my real commute! And... yeah, I'm out of excuses.
Last night, Dan told me that a combination of snow and rain covered the sidwalks of DC with an eighth of an inch of slush, i.e. "just enough to make you slip and die." I replied that NYC was due for the same disgusting weather today. We discussed the treacherous conditions, strategized how to navigate them without running the risk of cranial fractures, and ended the conversation by telling each other to stay safe.
This morning, one of my colleagues told me a story from her walk to work. As she trudged through the sleet from the bus stop to clinic, she couldn't help but stare at the woman about to cross her path. Or, rather, at the woman's feet. Alone in a sea of miserable boot-clad commuters, this daring lady was wearing sky-high purple suede heels and was blithely hopping over puddles and ice floes en route to her destination.
My colleague stared at the woman for a moment, then realized that she recognized her. She punctuated this part of the story by shooting a glance at my feet and quirking an eyebrow.
Ahem.
In my defense, I was just popping fifty feet across the street for a meeting! And the sky-high purple suede heels are made by Melissa... meaning they're injection-molded from flexible polyvinyl chloride and are thus nonslip and waterproof! And I did wear sneakers for my real commute! And... yeah, I'm out of excuses.
Monday, January 10, 2011
Pwned.
"ALL YOUR BASE ARE BELONG TO US." -- Zero Wing and its associated meme
I'm a geek, I work on a small research team filled with geeks, and we spend an inordinate amount of time trying to outdo each other with nerdspeak, SAT words, and pop culture references. Last week, I neatly hid the phrase "all their space are belong to us" under the fourth bullet point of our team meeting agenda.
I expected at least three of my colleagues to recognize the phrase and get a kick out of it.
I didn't expect to arrive at the meeting and find several surgeons, a couple of nurses from a different department, and some new research staff -- all of whom are woefully unfamiliar with my sense of humor and the shenanigans my teammates and I enjoy in our spare time -- sitting at the conference table.
My target audience of three individuals chuckled when we reached the fourth bullet point. Judging from the facial expressions of the newcomers, I surmised that none of them got the joke.
And judging from the fact that one of them muttered the words "subject-verb agreement" after the meeting adjourned, I knew I was right.
Pwned.
I'm a geek, I work on a small research team filled with geeks, and we spend an inordinate amount of time trying to outdo each other with nerdspeak, SAT words, and pop culture references. Last week, I neatly hid the phrase "all their space are belong to us" under the fourth bullet point of our team meeting agenda.
I expected at least three of my colleagues to recognize the phrase and get a kick out of it.
I didn't expect to arrive at the meeting and find several surgeons, a couple of nurses from a different department, and some new research staff -- all of whom are woefully unfamiliar with my sense of humor and the shenanigans my teammates and I enjoy in our spare time -- sitting at the conference table.
My target audience of three individuals chuckled when we reached the fourth bullet point. Judging from the facial expressions of the newcomers, I surmised that none of them got the joke.
And judging from the fact that one of them muttered the words "subject-verb agreement" after the meeting adjourned, I knew I was right.
Pwned.
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