In a Jam
Posted in: Everything Else
On the way home from our field trip to Houston’s Downtown Aquarium last week the kids and I were reminded why we never, EVER want to live in Houston…traffic.
And not just a spot of traffic either, this was bumper-to-bumper, “Oh my stinkin’ heck, ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?” kind of traffic. I think we might have sat still for 7 minutes and 32 seconds at one point – not that I was counting or anything.
And WHY was there traffic? It was 2:30 in the afternoon for crying out loud! WHY WERE THESE PEOPLE NOT AT WORK? Lazy, idle, non-office-working people!
By the time we reached mile marker 76 we had clocked about 45 minutes of doing nothing but the hokey pokey and we were averaging less than 3 yards a minute. With about 40 miles to go this was NOT LOOKING GOOD.
I informed Emelie she needed to keep her eye out for a Starbucks because I WANTED A FIX. After all, I figured if she actually spotted one there was plenty of time to inch over to an exit – or send a kid; whichever would save the most time.
And then, like a percolating beacon, we saw it…the coffee truck. A semi full of nature’s most precious bean – brewed and delivered right there on that highway JUST FOR ME.
As we inched closer I could taste it. Salivating on the highway is ugly business. I inched closer and closer, cutting people off – NO ONE WAS GOING TO COME BETWEEN ME AND THE COFFEE!
Holy mother of Pilot Travel Centers! Not only was there coffee on the interstate, but it was the “best coffee on the interstate”! I searched for a spout, a spicket, a tube, pipe, hose, trough…ANYTHING to get the coffee FROM the huge holding vat on the back of that truck INTO MY BLOODSTREAM.
But there was none.
And as we pulled closer I got a good look at the driver – the evil tempter with his false highway hopes.
He was on his cell phone…oblivious to the damage he was causing to my psyche!
I wanted to yell, “I’ll show YOU coffee ON THE INTERSTATE!” as I envisioned ramming my truck into the side of his – creating an enormous, gaping hole.
Everything became so clear. People would stop their cars and join me in the jubilee and we would run along behind the truck, dancing in the street and drinking in its nectar; one giant human tribute to the beauty of caffeine.
Then someone honked.
And I looked up from my dream and realized it was my turn to move…a foot forward.
Starbucks, you should really beat Pilot to the punch and have trucks dispersed through the big city to meet the needs of your customers ON THE ROAD. Your trucks could have speakers, your car hops on rollerblades, and you could even name the service “traffic jam” as we rocked out to your beats and drank your overpriced, but delicious, coffees.
And if you do? Please remember it was my idea…I expect royalties.