Coffee Guzzling Cars and Shopping Mayhem

I have just learned a startling fact, one which few people in this country are yet aware about. (I heard they have known this for a long time in Mozambique, but for some reason chose not to share the secret. Perhaps it was vengeance for someone in North America calling Africa the Dark Continent.) The truism is this: cars have a penchant for guzzling coffee. Specifically, Dunkin Donuts coffee. If given the opportunity, they will steal it from you. At least mine did. Maybe it has felt like it has seen me drink one too many without offering to share. Because today my car stole half of my large coffee, and I am still recovering from the theft. More on the heist later.

I decided to brave the hordes of Christmas shoppers today in an effort to get some of the early bird specials at various places, particularly those with a bent towards electronics. So I got up at 4:20 and prepared to do battle. I got to Circuit City about five minutes after 5, and there was not an available parking spot in the entire lot. Yup, that's right. Many others more insane than I had decided to beat me to these special deals. I didn't know what to do at first. Where do you park when there's no place to park. I drove around a bit, then parked down the street at Dunkin Donuts, hoping I wouldn't be in the store long enough to be towed away for not buying anything there. Fortunately, I got into CC and found the hordes had not bought up the stuff I wanted. So after waiting in line about fifteen minutes, I was on my merry way.

I went to Best Buy next. They also had some great deals. I was especially pleased to see some DVDs, including a recent release, on sale for real cheap. So I snagged some of those, and after making my other selections (again, nothing I wanted gone yet!) proceeded to what I thought would be the shorter checkout line. I thought this for two reasons. First, the line at one side of the store snaked around forever. Second, some guy kept yelling through his megaphone "Mall line, to your left," "Mall line, over here," and other such phrases intended to direct people to the right place so they wouldn't cut the line. But I thought at first he was saying "Small line, over here," which of course drew my attention after seeing the gargantuan one at the other side of the store. And it seemed a little shorter. So I got into it. But, alack alas, it was slow. And it snaked around forever. It was a little like the lines for any really popular ride at an amusement park, be it Six Flags or Disney or some other place, where the line snakes back and forth for an eternity, and there are always hidden areas of the line that you only see as you get closer. I was in line for over an hour.

Finally I was called. And then they rang up one of my DVDs (the new release one) at a higher price than what it was advertised for where I picked it up. I explained to the cashier that I thought the price rung up was wrong, and that it was in the bin with the other lower priced ones. She brushed me off, saying it was the higher price, and that it might have been put in there by a customer. (It was clear to me this had not happened, unless there was some customer with nothing to do on their hands but to take about twenty or thirty of the same title and stick it in the wrong place.) I told her there were many of them in the same place, so it was not a customer. And if it was their mistake, shouldn't I get it for the price they said it was? After all, I had been waiting in line for an hour! She said she couldn't do that. I tried the "Can I speak to your supervisor?" line, but she told me that she was the supervisor. (You never know if this response is true or just a lie to get you off their back.) So I dejectedly said I didn't want the item, while steaming inside at the intransigence of big companies who make mistakes, don't apologize for them, and don't do anything to make up for them. Arrgh.

I suppose I could sue or something, but that would be excessive. When I got home I decided on simply responding to one of their surveys you can take online about your shopping experience there. Then I couldn't find the survey. So I decided to settle for sending a scathing email to customer service, in which I would complain about the long line and poor customer service, all while secretly hoping they would respond with a "We're really sorry, and here's a gift card to make up for it." But then the place I found for writing the company an email had no category for "complaints," just things like "general questions," "delivery," "returns," and that sort of thing. So either Best Buy is so pompous they never consider customers might have "complaints," or they just don't want to hear them. Or maybe I was at the wrong spot. If anyone knows anything about complaining to Best Buy, let me know. For now I'm contemplating a boycott. Such boycott would likely last at least until they put on some other great sale that I can't resist.

But I digress. After the ridiculously long wait in line, I trotted over to Olympia Sports, and thought about buying a 240 dollar jacket for 100 dollars. But I decided I didn't need it. Same story at Sears, where some refrigerators were 20 percent off before 11 A.M. But spending many hundreds of dollars before I know it's really necessary is a big thing, so I refrained. Then I skipped off to Staples, where I got a great deal on an office chair. They were out of the other stuff I wanted. Oh well.

Now about the coffee guzzling car. I finally decided to go to Dunkin Donuts, in celebration of the day and as a reward for exercising fiscal restraint. After all, I could have spent hundreds of dollars more than I did, so spending a few bucks on breakfast could be justified, right? Of course right. There I discovered that this DD was more expensive than the one I've been going to. Or maybe prices have just gone up. I shelled out 28 cents more for my breakfast combo than normal. Such a hit in the wallet means I'll probably have to fast for a meal or two to make up for it. But anyone who knows me knows that won't hurt me too much. Anyway, then I proceeded on my merry way back to my car. Discovering the coffee needed a little more sugar, I zipped back in and returned in a flash, having successfully secured the necessary ingredients to make my beverage potable. Well, in my car I have an armrest between the two bucket seats. The top of the armrest slides back to reveal a cup holder, where I always place my coffee to rest. Today was no different, until I accidentally jammed the sliding top up against the cup as I got in the car. Or maybe I should say the car jammed the top, as this was the means by which it stole half of my cup of coffee.

I heard of the theft even before I saw it. I pulled the armrest top away from the cup, only to hear the sound of rushing liquid departing my cup. What was this? Turns out the top of the armrest has a sharp edge to it. In the process of jamming into the cup, it had neatly created a gash about three inches wide about halfway up the side of the styrofoam container. Before I could figure out an appropriate countermeasure, half my coffee poured into the base of the armrest, then slowly seeped down into the belly of my car. (Right after this happened, a contented rumbling sound emerged from the body of the car, followed by the words "I looove French Vanilla.") So now you know how I learned of the efforts underway by various vehicles to steal your coffee.

The afternoon was spent preparing for a housewarming party, then the party itself. A bunch of my relatives came over and checked out the place, brought gifts, and spent time socializing. It was a really nice time. I have awesome relatives! Now it's on to a lovely Friday evening.

In other news, I'm back on the professional stage! I'm in A Christmas Carol, this time playing the role of Solicitor Number 1. Doesn't sound like much, and it isn't really. But it's the largest role I've had yet on the pro stage, we're putting on multiple performances, and I'm really looking forward to it!