A favourite band reuniting
Good Saturn of Lynnwood experience, for a change

Signs of suburbia

I was waiting in line at Starbucks for my triple grande nonfat no-whip white chocolate mocha (itself a sure sign of my own full-immersion suburbia experience) while...

  1. The two men at the counter tried to pack 17(!) drinks onto four drink-holder tray things and then figure out how to carry the entire order down the street to their offices

  2. A crowd of young mothers, most with at least one child in tow, materialized out of nowhere and surrounded me with breathless discussions about
    • their kids' recent athletic or scholarly achievements
    • the latest piano-lesson craziness
    • the fact that Robbie's friend Emma (not that Emma, the other one) broke her wrist at gymnastics the other day and now she can't deliver her Girl Scout Cookie orders, and that means the cookies will be late!
    • how Brittany (Connor's mom[!]) looks like she's anorexic, but we've all seen her put away the food on more than one neighborhood-gathering occasion, haven't we?
    • how Joe got laid off almost two years ago and hasn't done a damned thing to find work but isn't their house looking lovely these days? Even though you know it's because Tiffany's hired the right handyman since Joe's all thumbs....

  3. Amanda—I assume that's her name; it was embroidered across the ass of her low-rise sweatpants (and why does any 20-something, or for that matter anyone at all, think those are even remotely attractive?)—freaked out when the baristas told her they were out of soy milk for a few minutes until the new shipment they were in the very act of receiving (I could see the truck out the side window) could be unpacked, but the baristas saved the day by offering her a consolation scone while she waited