I'M A FREAK
I think we're all a little freakish in our own ways, but it's a scary day when you finally realize the freak in your life is YOU. I had this humbling experience last Friday. Our new preacher's wife, Rebecca, and I were on a jaunt to Merrillville to find a hotel to host our upcoming ladies' retreat. We'd been having a grand time. Rebecca is a doll, and it's always fun to discover a new friend. We'd been past this shopping center three times before I saw it.
There, just to my right, was a CARIBOU COFFEE SHOP!! My van veered to the right before I got control of it again. "It's Caribou Coffee," I shrieked. Rebecca was looking at me rather carefully. I think she was wondering what she should do if I tried to cause another accident over coffee. "No, no, you don't understand," I babbled. "There is no Caribou Coffee in Indiana. I've only seen it in Minnesota, but it's the most awesome coffee. We are SO going to have some."
Rebecca is nodding. "Of course we will," she said in the same soothing voice she uses when her two year old is getting fractious. We managed to go to lunch first--I wanted to keep some shred of dignity--then we went to the coffee shop. I burst through the door shouting, "I'm so glad you're here!" The girl behind the counter brightened with a big smile. I think my excitement made the day for all the employees, but I think Rebecca wanted to slink out the door.
My mocha was just as good as I remembered. And if you think I'm a freak, just blame Kristin. She got all this freakishness started at a coffee shop in Glorieta the first time we met. It's all her fault. Really.