A new
year sits on the horizon. Only a few days remain in 2023, which, for me, has
been a year of adapting to what has changed rather than experiencing actual
change. Of course change has happened in the past twelve months; life is always
in some sort of flux, just not always as drastically as it’s been since 2020.
That darned corona virus threw everything and everyone for a loop, but it can’t
be blamed for everything that happened this year.
Well,
maybe it can. If not for the pandemic, my work life would still be fulltime at
the office, where my colleagues would also be present all day every day (and
less work would be getting done!) But would Starbucks have kept eggnog lattes
on their holiday drinks menu if COVID hadn’t happened?
Can’t
say.
What
I can say, however, is in the Before
Time, a Bucky’s steamed eggnog was better than anyone else’s. The ratio of nog
to milk was always perfect, the foam always thick, creamy and demanding of a
spoon. I’d down at least one a week back then ... and but now, it’s impossible even
if I still worked in town five days a week. Eggnog anything is no longer listed
among their holiday drinks.
One
thing that has not changed is my compulsion to lose it when I can’t have what I
want because they’re out of a vital ingredient. I’m not referring to eggnog
here – I took that one in stride, likely because they took it off the menu during
the lean winter of lockdown. To give Bucky’s masterminds credit, they came up
with a dandy if not preferable replacement in the form of a Gingerbread Oat Chai
Latte. Hot or iced, when ordered half-sweet, oh my gawd, it’s good. Even Ter
likes them, and she’s not inclined to “handcrafted beverages” at the best of
times.
So we
happily scheduled a stop at Bucky’s to celebrate our final Christmas shopping
trip for the year. I cheerfully placed the order: “Two grande gingerbread oat
chai lattes, please, half-sweet.”
The
clerk at the counter hesitated, then regretfully advised us that “We’re out of
gingerbread syrup.”
For
anyone who doesn’t already know, many years ago, I went postal on a David’s Tea
clerk who innocently told me that Persian Apple (my favourite at the time) was
a limited edition and no longer available. My reaction almost immediately
assumed legendary status thanks to my then-office roomie, who witnessed the
scene and promptly told everyone at work how badly I’d behaved. Since then,
anyone who’s with me is instantly traumatized when I am faced with similar
information, whether or not I react with the same vehemence. I try not to,
being mindful that it’s not the clerk’s fault and no one deserves berating over
a First World trifle, but the legend lives on ...
On
this occasion, I think I held it together pretty well. Also thanks to the
pandemic, “pivoting” has become a thing, and I’m quicker than some on the spur
of the moment. Ter is more easily flustered these days, and it took her
completely aback. Ergo, our drinks order went from a straightforward “two of
the same” to one half-sweet cinnamon dolce oat chai latter and a decaf
Americano with cream and one raw sugar, which they were also out of (due to a
strike at the sugar processing plant), so make that a shot of brown sugar syrup
instead. We ran through it a few times for the clerk’s benefit – awesome as she
was, she was determined to get it right – yet in the end, I couldn’t resist.
“You know,” I said to her, “this wouldn’t be so confusing if you hadn’t run out of gingerbread syrup.”
