You are a master of foolery. You tell me that you have the best coffee and espresso beans around, and although I have tasted better, I still believe you. You know the temperature outside and you draw me in with the perfect internal thermostat neutralizer. And then when I do come in from the heat and get and iced beverage, you freeze my core with your air conditioner that is so quiet I have no idea it's on, until I am so cold that I find myself ordering another drink, a warmer one. I fall for it every time. You offer me "healthy" options with a scoop of whey protein, and despite my careful research, I find my head convincing my rationale that whey protein is the equivalent to having a chicken breast for lunch. You offer me an array of treats that tantalize me when I am not hungry, but your sign that says "organic blueberries" or "whole grains" I begin thinking that I am doing myself a disservice if I do not consume your sugar traps. Your atmosphere makes my head spin. Is this a community or is it time to listen to Jewel and write in my journal? You set up tables and couches with just enough chairs that if I am alone, I am totally aware of the silence that surrounds me. And it is not long before I find myself emoed-out, brushing my bangs in my face and putting my earphones in my ears. If I am in a group, I am all too aware of our rambunctious nature, which is hardly our fault. It was you who caused this intense elevation in loud voices as you offered us a "free extra shot" with a wink. And we took it, because we believe in the quality of your beans, but then we are given scornful looks for our energy, from the dark poet that is writing vigorously in his journal. And what about your energy shot? It was vitamin B, so I may as well get this everyday instead of taking the vitamins right? Yes, that is what you want me to think. And just as I am standing waiting for my tea, served plain, I begin patting myself on the back for not falling for your antics, and I pity those that are in line, savoring the menu options and splurging for the venti. So as I am becoming prideful in my choice, I look down and see your new brochure: "Good". This is your master plan, because each Thursday you put out a small newspaper that folds neatly into my purse and in a small snippet you give me information that I am too lazy to look up on my own: Immigration. Carbon in the Air. Health Care. You point out which Presidential Candidate supports what, and I begin to fool myself into thinking I am well informed. I don't even check the source. And then, I find myself sitting down, reading that information like the Bible and finishing my tea when I just meant to leave. I look around and although I am alone, I begin to feel like we are all a community, learning about politics and getting filled with protein and vitamins together, and so I stay. I get cold, hungry, and I begin to fall into your trap.
Next time you come out with another one of your antics, I will be prepared. And I will not fall for it, until you pass out those sample that you make in those tiny cups, and I will begin to feel energized, cleansed, full of vitamins, or whatever else you promise and then I will start to feel a chill in the air, and your list of options will begin to entice me. And just as I want to fight it, I will see the pamphlet that gives me a Poly Sci degree in one sitting and I will order a venti, and decide to stay awhile.
I just turned 25 and I live in Orange County, California with my husband. We love God, love life, and love trying new adventures together. In June I will have completed my Masters in Theology at Fuller Theological Seminary. I hope to some day teach like my parents, and write a book about how all of this somehow relates together. It always does.