unlike the others

i have just sat down in the lord elgin starbucks. have just taken my first sip of hot chocolate. have just contributed my latest to a heartfelt correspondence with a wonderful old friend of my mom's. have just received a text message confirmation from one of my colleague friends saying she won't be able to join me for this afternoon's café work session. have just opened up my notepad and jotted down the goals for the next few hours.

in sum, i've just completed one variation of a routine first five minutes of being in the coffee shop before resuming thesis work.

far less routine, however, is the line-up to my right. unbeknownst to this string of customers, they are all performing in a classic game of "one of these things is not like the other." (best of luck getting that jingle out of your head.) and we are the contestants.

here's what's the same: seven of the eight customers are behaving like a buncha lazy, boring, normal people, standing there facing the eventual baristas. some are quietly talking to each other. (yawn.) others are alone and checking their phones. (snore.) some clutch a purse or a briefcase...others are trailing a little beetle of a roller-suitcase behind them. (weak.) most look moderately out of it (it is, after all, 3:30pm -- aka the witching hour of the nine-to-five workday).

but they can't fool us. mostly because the second-last guy in line (who's clearly never played this game before and who has no idea what "lazy," "boring" or "normal" entails) immediately gives himself away. we all watch (a hush falls over the crowd, so you can barely hear my commentator's voice) as he sets his sights on the tee, takes the time to line everything up juuust right, and then -- really putting his business-suited, forty-seven-year-old hips into it -- suh-WINGS, following all the way through with his arms.

"fooooooore!"

if you could only see the pride stretch across his face as he watches that ball fly all the way down the fairway until it's time to place his order.

and now back to translating...