And Now It Is Time For An Answer (told in three parts) - 2


“And now it is time for an answer!  That’s exactly what I told him and how I told him.” My miffed barista gal-pal yammered on as she retells the story of her latest tête-à-tête with her newest actor beau.

And Now It Is Time For An Answer (told in three parts) - p2

By Stephán Amery McKenzie

One of the reasons my barista gal-pal and I are so close is, we strongly believe that whatever is happening today does not mean it will be our tomorrow. That, and somehow our lives come full circle over and over and over again. Sometimes small tiny circles, like when I was at a laundry mat a few years ago doing four loads for a homeless shelter near my house (actually it was my own laundry but I do not like people knowing I wash my clothes at a local laundry mat). The guy next to me who I talked to and laughed with all night ended up living right below me in this crappy apartment complex, which not only did not have a laundry facility, it did not have parking either. Ugly. We both had lived there for two years and never met. And sometimes big circles. This one time she went on a jaunt to Peru and the dude she shacked up with for all four days was the same guy her mother had been trying to match-make her with but she kept telling her mother, “We don’t even like the same rays of the sun, how can you know what men I want to sleep with?” Her momma may not know the sun, but apparently, she knows her daughter’s coochie.

Right about now I can start to feel the beaming death stares on the back of my neck as the entire line of customers are forced to wait an extra six minutes or so to get their coffee-heroine because my barista gal-pal and I are hamming it up off to the side. The poor dude who unluckily got paired with her today is doing the work of three. This always happens when the two of us get together. And people hate us for it. Like the time we were in the drive-through of the In-N-Out Burger on Sunset near La Brea. The one with the big parking lot that resembles a High School outdoor courtyard with everyone milling around like they have no care in the world. My barista gal-pal and I were daring each other to see who could say the most outrageous comment to the most outrageously handsome passerby. The winner would have to pay for lunch and/or drinks. You know the order-taking attendant that stands outside of In-N-Out walking up to the cars in line for the drive-through to take their orders to speed up the process—yes, that one—ends up getting so wrapped up in our outrageous goings-on the attendant takes an unscheduled lengthy break to continue playing with us. Yeah, we did not make any fans that day. Or the time we were at the Costco in Burbank off of Burbank Blvd. If you ever been there, you know you can get on all the rides at Disneyland faster than get in and out of that Costco. She and I were having this heated conversation about this questionnaire and to settle who was right we drew the Costco clerk into taking the same twenty-five question survey that started our heated debate, while the clerk was working the checkout. Yeah, we almost died that day.