survey monkeys

it's time for the randomly assigned star*ucks customer feedback survey: yee-haw! filling it out means getting a(nother) gratis hot chocolate. it also means noticing that you belong, for the first time, to the "35-49 years" checkbox. humph. it's not that i mind thirty-five. (in fact, it's a pretty great age.) but i'm none too crazy about seeing it placed directly beside that other number. c'mon -- all in due time, Survey Monkey! *furrowing brow*

luckily, with its regular hubbub of conversations, the coffee shop quickly reminds us that such trivial, self-absorbed, middle-class, survey-based musings shouldn't occupy our thoughts for too long. after all, furrowing one's brow has never helped a thirty-five-year-old look less like a forty-nine-year-old! (*gently relaxes forehead*) and, besides, the world does not revolve around me!

at my six o'clock:
fifty-year-old man's man #1: so, hey, is Darren still married? 
fifty-year-old man's man #2: well...yeah. but he's still as grumpy as ever.
*in unison*: har-dee-har-har-har

[eight o'clock]
fifty-year-old delivery guy, on his way out the door: a lotta goodlookin' girls in here... 
(yeesh. very subtle.)

[three o'clock]
barista: hello, what can i get for you today?
fifty-year-old woman: my mom's dying, so i need some caffeine.
barista: *awkward pause*

looks like forty-nine isn't what i need to be worrying about. phew!

and now back to translating...