Starbucks...

I got to the Dr's office today b/c she is a specialist and has to look at this weird bump on my leg (I've had it examined by 4 drs thus far to no avail). I go in, meet the dr, tell her the long sordid tale of my dealings thus far. She says to me, "WOW, that sucks, let me see." I show her and she says, "Yeah, that is weird. We're gonna have to do a biopsy…now." I then have a needle shoved in my leg and a chunk of my leg removed and thus, my leg decides to gush blood. I then proceed to get 3-4 stitches, some antibiotic, a cotton-ball and band-aid. "OK, we'll get your results in 2 weeks and then call you to tell you what you have and what we want to do. I'm very curious to get the results back, as I've never seen such an anomaly before. I hope you don't have anything bad." And I leave.
I'm thinking to my self, "Self, what's with always having something no one knows and living in the world of only specialists?" As I am thinking this to myself, I am traversing down a winding flight of carpeted stairs. Just as I come to the first landing, I am still deep in thought as to WTF is on my leg, and I proceed to twist my foot and fall down the remaining flight of stairs. Of course at this time, the elevator doors open, and an old lady hobbles out (she has some sort of growth on the left side of her lower lip). She gasps at the heap of unladylike, short-haired youngster at the bottom of the stairs and offers an outstretched and highly medicated looking hand as a gesture of good will to help me up. I say, "no thank you" as sweetly as I can while grasping onto the ledge of the wall and pulling my disheveled self off the floor, straightening my hair, and pretending nothing utterly embarrassing has just occurred.
I make my way carefully to my vehicle and decide that I want a cold refreshing drink on my way back to the office, where I will be detained working on useless crap with no real resolution for the remainder of the day. After much deliberation, I decide I will treat myself to a Starbucks Caramel Macchiato, as I have not had one in nearly 6 months, and it would be well deserved as I have endured a puncture wound and yet another blow to my ego. As I pull into my friendly neighborhood Starbucks (one of the only left with no drive-thru) I see a van in front of me unloading a small hoard of children and a homely looking soccer-parent couple. I think, “damn, this family cannot possibly be going to Starbucks for lunch; how unhealthy.” But, alas, this family is run by a bunch of bumbling heathens, and I am forced to stand behind the confused and chaotic family posse and wait out my turn in the Starbucks line.
In the span of 20 minutes, this family managed to ask about every drink on the menu; create random concoctions and then change them at the very last second; throw a hissy fit over the fact that mommy won't let the youngest have a stylishly dressed CO Starbucks Barista Teddy Bear; order, and then cancel every pastry in Starbucks (NO EXAGERATION); and then begin the process over again for another 20 minutes. By this point, the line for Starbucks has reached a gargantuan size and the gentleman behind me proceeds to blame the wait on the sparkling and ever-so-patient Starbucks employees. Every fiber in being wanted to scream, "NO!!!!! The employees of Starbucks are handling the entire situation with a grace and ease that the good Lord did not instill in me. What has happened here is that a Jack-Ass pretentious soccer-mom has nagged her husband into letting her stop at Starbucks for her daily frappacino intake (which her ass clearly needs more of if she is to continue to be mistaken for a pack-mule) and somehow convinced him to concede to the fact that their 4 daughters need to be saturated by everything that is Starbucks, coffee, and sugar on a Wednesday at 11:00 am. These people do not possess the decency or courtesy of letting the single party people behind them, who know what they want, to jump ahead of them in line, and allow the outside world to operate at a normal pace. Instead, we are all here to bear witness to the American Dream and how clueless we have become to anything outside of our selves. The wait you are experiencing is a direct result of the family outing to Starbucks ahead of us in line and has nothing whatsoever to do with the courteous people behind the counter." But instead, I just cast the man an icy glance and proceeded to plot ways to seek out my revenge on the pompous and clueless couple in front of me that were standing in the middle of their swarming and unruly children.
Eventually, my drink was delivered to me and I was granted the great privilege of driving behind the oldest man in COS, who has no clue that a device known as a gas pedal actually propels his car forward, all the way back to work, where I get to read yet another e-mail plagued with the inefficient and illogical trappings of the IT world and sales... to be continued.