The Wish List

I have a running list of the things I really REALLY would like to do once I start pulling in some awesome 4 figure checks:

Haircut

I am starting to look a lot like this: 

Of course, I mean minus the perfectly symmetrical features, princess dress and romantic association with a man who has no genitals (ah, Ken). I just mean that my hair is out of control to the point where a small child could genuinely have hours of fun with it. My locs now tap that the “intimate” spot on my back where it is not okay to touch a woman unless you know her biblically (or would like to).  I do not want to get to the point where I can sit on it. I would love to get it cut but its not like my locs and I can go to supercuts and receive quality service.  One of the banes of having ethnic (albeit low maintenance) hair is that not everyone can wash, style and cut it.  Of course, I am in a multicultural mecca, so this means there ARE people who can cut my hair… for $100. If I thought I wouldn’t wind up looking like this: 

I would do it myself.  I am pretty sure I would massacre my own hair.  Therefore, the haircut will have to wait.

Dry Cleaning

As I have mentioned previously my mother is a very classy Southern lady.  She taught me a lot about clothing and has instilled in me a certain… appreciation of natural fibers. Silk, seersucker and linen in the summer.  Cashmere and wool in the fall and winter. Cotton year round.  Call it snobbery if you will but I have clothes from high school that I can still wear because they were well made...  As a result I have a pile of dry clean only clothes that have been accumulating since last summer.  I have been ignoring them (I don’t really need that gold lace D&G dress for another occasion that I know of) but I really need to round them up and drop them off at a reputable establishment.

Cobbler

I wear shoes into the ground. Literally.  Twice I have felt weird clicking sensations on my feet only to turn them over to expose the screw that used to hold a heel. I have a LOT of shoes. A dozen pair of cowboy boots alone but when since I have moved around quite a bit and have no idea where I may settle, most of them are at home in CT.  This means I wear the crap out of a few pairs of shoes I have with me.  I have at least three pairs that I really should stop wearing and drop off at the cobbler but that means $$$$$. This is yet another bullet point on my employment checklist.

New Sheets

Some people enjoy high thread count Egyptian cotton.  Or silky microfiber.  Not me.  I am but a humble attorney.  I like jersey sheets in the spring, summer and fall and flannel sheets in winter. Right now, my bed is sporting the cheapest sheets Marshalls had to offer.  They are substantially less “deluxe” than the label indicated.   I yearn for the day when my $40 and I can roll into Target and buy some sweet jersey sheets.  Its like sleeping on T shirts!

Frog

Beginning in college, I started to buy aquatic pets.  It started with a series of guppies (Mini Me, Minier Me, Miniest Me) and progressed into a series of frogs primarily named after members of the Red Hot Chili Peppers (Kiedis, Frusciante, Flea, Chad).  The last of my little croakers died in the care of my law school ex but I would love to acquire another cheap low maintenance aquatic pet.

See? I don’t want to fly to Seattle to have my favorite tartare (at Café Presse) or replace my beloved Hudson jeans that ripped right under the butt ((sniff)) or even get lasik.  I just want clean clothes, an underwater friend, not to end up peeing on my hair and sweet soft sheets. All reasonable.

Ordering Etiquette

I continue in my underemployment adventures (though the interviewing has picked up as of late - nibble nibbles, no bites.). 

Do you ever worry that the people providing service to you are judging you?  It is true. We are.  Here are some things I will judge you for as a barista and friendly neighborhood food service provider:

·      I work at a Southern bakery/cafe with heavy New Orleans influence.  This means thick cut smoky bacon, flaky buttery croissants, homemade mocha syrup composed of heavy whipping cream, bittersweet chocolate and decadent cocoa powder, a Muffalotta brimming with salami, mortadella, smoked ham, aged provolone and olive salad, sweet dough deep fried and smothered in powdered sugar... You get the picture. This is why it is asinine to ask the following:

o   “What do you have that is low fat or sugar free?”

This is one of those questions where I barely manage to cover the smirk as I deadpan “Nothing.” I guess people could get a salad (just leaves) with no dressing.  If someone wants seven subs for less than seven grams of fat each, Subway is a block north.

·      Large Breve drinks. Breve in this instance refers to an espresso beverage made with half and half. A large is 16 ounces.  Every time I have to aerate 14 ounces of half and half, my tummy hurts a little.

·      Speaking on your cell phone the entire time you order. Its exceptionally rude and I have to bite my tongue every time it occurs.  Thankfully, it is not a common occurrence.

·      Decaf. Soy. Anything. I’m sorry.  I know there are lactose intolerant people out there who can’t have caffeine.  Its just that from a taste standpoint, this gives me a sad. :(

·      Refusing to believe me when I say that we are out of something.  “But I see that person over there has some!”  This is when I take a few breaths and explain, “That person has x food item because they ordered it before you.”  It’s a simple matter of supply and timing.  I cannot produce what you desire out of thin air.  God, if I could create jambalaya out of thin air I would be a millionaire!! I would travel the nation making Creole delicacies on demand! At office parties! For weddings! I would also end up morbidly obese but no situation is win win.

·      Reading the menu for ten minutes while you stand in line waiting to order before appearing in front of smiling me and DITHERING for several minutes about what you want to order. I don’t mean taking the time to ask my opinion or soliciting advice, I mean this:

o   “Hmmm I think I will have the gumbo. Or maybe not, I am thinking of getting the chicken salad sandwich.  Can I get that without any chicken salad and sub in ham? No… okay what about the seasonal soup? Is it possible to pick the cooked onions out? No? Okay well then I will just have the muffalotta with no cheese or olive salad, no mortadella sub with turkey and can I get that on seven grain bread. No?  Fine, I will have a cup of gumbo and some tap water. “ 

Because I don’t want this to be solely about the things you can do wrong, here is what you can do correctly: Ordering perfectly.  Where I work, this is a perfect order.  I also imagine this will work in many places:

·      “Hello.  How are you?”

o   Yes, a greeting. An interest in my well being. Politeness.

·      “I would like a muffalotta, a side of potato salad, a sweet tea and a salty peanut butter cookie for here. Thank you.”

o   You have eliminated the need for me to ask several follow up questions (“Are you having that here with us”, “Would you like anything to drink?” and “Can we get anything else for you?”)  Its. Perfect. A thing of beauty.

A great order makes me happy every time. That and realizing that the person who is ordering from me is actually treating me like a human being.  Its the little things...