Are You Experienced?
The Starbucks Job, once cruising on its way to Wageville, has hit a pothole. I was supposed to attend a class yesterday in Sandy Springs as part of my training; the class is titled "The Starbucks Experience" and it's designed to train employees in everything except actually making coffee. When I arrived there promptly at 4, however (the class was located in the upstairs of a Roswell Rd. location, very sketch), I barged through the door and found myself in the middle of a PR meeting with the major power brokers of the 'Bucks. But before I realized this was not the Experience, I moved to take a seat at the table with them. I was kindly informed that I had just made a fool of myself, at which point I excused myself to go sit in traffic for an hour until I got to Haynes Bridge and was apologized to for being given the wrong time and place of the class. So I have to take the class on Thursday, which may or may not interfere with my plans to go see Psycho at Screen on the Green in Piedmont Park. Most likely I'll be spending 5 hours learning about First Impressions! with only the rare condescending remark to salve the knowledge of missing my only chance to see a gigantic Anthony Perkins in the middle of Atlanta.
Well, otherwise I had a good lunch with Kristen at Burrito Art, just a short drive from her work at Yerkes (yes, the monkey place). And I picked up the new Wilco album, which Thomas and I promptly dissected last night. Thomas thinks that Wilco is obsessed with one particular chord, and I think Thomas is obsessed with chords.
By the way, I saw The Station Agent last night, which is one of the movies we missed at DOC, and I loved it, perhaps because it was about dwarfs and trains.
Now I'm going to go read Jonathan Franzen's The Corrections out on the deck, which is really, really good.
The Starbucks Job, once cruising on its way to Wageville, has hit a pothole. I was supposed to attend a class yesterday in Sandy Springs as part of my training; the class is titled "The Starbucks Experience" and it's designed to train employees in everything except actually making coffee. When I arrived there promptly at 4, however (the class was located in the upstairs of a Roswell Rd. location, very sketch), I barged through the door and found myself in the middle of a PR meeting with the major power brokers of the 'Bucks. But before I realized this was not the Experience, I moved to take a seat at the table with them. I was kindly informed that I had just made a fool of myself, at which point I excused myself to go sit in traffic for an hour until I got to Haynes Bridge and was apologized to for being given the wrong time and place of the class. So I have to take the class on Thursday, which may or may not interfere with my plans to go see Psycho at Screen on the Green in Piedmont Park. Most likely I'll be spending 5 hours learning about First Impressions! with only the rare condescending remark to salve the knowledge of missing my only chance to see a gigantic Anthony Perkins in the middle of Atlanta.
Well, otherwise I had a good lunch with Kristen at Burrito Art, just a short drive from her work at Yerkes (yes, the monkey place). And I picked up the new Wilco album, which Thomas and I promptly dissected last night. Thomas thinks that Wilco is obsessed with one particular chord, and I think Thomas is obsessed with chords.
By the way, I saw The Station Agent last night, which is one of the movies we missed at DOC, and I loved it, perhaps because it was about dwarfs and trains.
Now I'm going to go read Jonathan Franzen's The Corrections out on the deck, which is really, really good.
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