Alehouse restroom. Flashing back to the hospital gift shop in 2004, all those old-lady volunteers.
Which is not to say the old-lady volunteers were in the alehouse restroom with me—nothing so scandalous.
No, one of them was named Stella. And every time I saw her, I’d do the “Streetcar” bit. And she’d smile tolerantly and encourage me to return to the cash-register lesson. ;-)
Set the Way-Back Machine to today, 06:50ish.
I’m waiting at the 4th & Pike bus stop for the Sound Transit 545 to Redmond. I’m holding my freshly prepared (and still a smidge too hot to drink) small skinny vanilla latte from the Seattle’s Best down the street, watching the traffic roll past.
A good many vehicles pass that location in the usually five or six minutes I have to wait for the 545. Fair number of buses, many private vehicles and business trucks/vans/whatever.
One truck catches my eye. Smallish tanker truck, it looks like the type that might deliver heating oil in the suburbs. The company name emblazoned on its side:
BAKER COMMODITIES INC.
In no way remarkable, no idea why it catches my eye.
So then my brain goes into overdrive in something like the following sequence of thoughts, which probably requires all of 10 seconds start to finish: