So this morning I need coffee. Not in my town, I stop at a starbucks and order a big sugar gut bomb, and look for the bathroom.
Surprise! there is a digital lock on the door. ya gotta get the code! not a real reassuring sign, to be sure.
So I lean over the glass to the young gal who is working the giant, Willy Wonka, coffee apparatus and quietly (cause it is sorta like you are 10 years old and raising your hand to ask to go pee), ask her what the code is.
“Oh, Actually I don’t know the code, you’ll have to ask the cashier”. And off she goes, back to her levers.
now the cashier is standing about 2 feet away from her, behind the same counter of course. meanwhile, I am on the other side and there are about 10 people in line, none of whom look particularly happy. I have to barge in and holler over the general hub-bub and work this out.
Which strikes me as kind of funny. I mean, does she not expect others to ask her this question? Maybe she doesn’t have the proper security clearance from HQ? she doesn’t like my looks? What?
I imagine her standing there all day long saying the same thing over and over and over.