posted by Matt W on November 12th, 2014

I go to Starbucks for lunch almost every workday. I have a triple tall Americano with an inch of room. $2.91… every day. Now I have read all the life-long savings books about the best way to save money for the future is to cut out the daily, fill in the blank, which in my case is an Americano. I still choose to get in my car almost every day and drive a few miles, mostly to see my Starbucks friends. I walk in everyday and chat with all my barista buddies for a couple of minutes, take my drink and head back to work. They rag on me when the Seahawks lose, they ask how my dog is doing, and they ask me my thoughts on the latest energy issue. It’s just a nice break to my day. Howard Schultz would be proud of how well they have hooked me, although maybe a little disappointed in their inability to upsell me on a more expensive drink or sandwich.

So, I walk in the other day to be greeted by one of the younger baristas who has taken my order hundreds of times. “Hey Home Skillet, are you having the normal?” As I wasn’t quite to the register, and had no idea who or what a home skillet was, I turned around to see if I had cut in front of someone. Seeing that I was the only person she could be talking to I finished walking to the counter and said “Did you just say home skillet?” She was obviously embarrassed and turned a little red. She went on to explain what she actually meant if I wasn’t as old as dirt, and hurriedly handed me my Americano. I apologized for my lameness and told her “that was nice “as I left.

Later that day, I told my daughter that the girl who took my order at Starbucks had referred to me as “Home Skillet” and asked if she knew what it meant. She said how sweet that was and finished with “but you ruined it didn’t you?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact I did, but what exactly do YOU mean by that?” I replied in my best potential college fund reducing voice.

She still decided mocking was the best course of action and in her best low bass dad voice said, “Young woman of Starbucks, what was your meaning when you referred to me as Home Skillet of Knoxville, when one can see I wear nothing of cast iron?”

OK, I admit I made some of that up, but my actual reply to her mocking was, “You do realize I was born in the 1900’s don’t you?” because she had left a great deal of doubt she actually believed that in her reply.

Now, I am not physically old for my age; I feel pretty good. But I am pretty out of touch when it comes to… well… everything (I was going to add something there but after I saw “everything” written on the page I realized that summed things up pretty well). Some of the time I feel like I’m missing out, like I need to try and catch up with the new more connected world. But I guess in the end I have enough going on that someone called me their “Home Skillet,” so I guess I’m doing fine. Now, I just need to do a better job playing cool and not ruining it.

File Under Jack of all Trades