I wake a few minutes late. Why did my phone alarm not go off?
My phone had been plugged in, but the breaker had switched off and it was not charging. Totally dead.
I rush from the shower and pull on the sun dress I had laid out. I can make the flight but it will be pushing it.
I hate to hurry for a plane.
The driver is ringing and buzzing the front gate. Gosh, I think to myself. Can’t he ever remember the gate code?
I pull the handle to my favorite suitcase, and the handle does not pull up.
Really? I hurry to the closet and pull the other suitcase unloading the items inside and jamming them in the new suitcase. Instead of a neatly packed bag, I now have crumpled stuffed clothing.
Grabbing my sweater, I throw a single long strand of pearls over my neck and run out as the alarm sets.
I hurry trough security, it’s all fine, I say to myself. Walking quickly I see my gate.
Flight 2016 delayed 20 minutes.
Great, of course I say under my breath. All this rushing and the flight is late.
I walk slowly to the coffee counter. Black small coffee please.
The woman behind the counter is older, she shuffles to the machine to fix the coffee. Her foot is flowing over the side of the shoe.
I will need to make a new pot she shouts. This looks bitter, been here a bit too long.
I wait as the water pours into the dark pot.
I check the gate and look at my messages, 5% battery left.
Paying for the coffee I walk away with the the hot drink safely in my hand. Got to find a plug to change my phone quick.
As I lip the scalding coffee, I taste strong sweet coffee, not the black I requested.
I walk quickly back to the counter.
Impatiently I speak, “excuse me, this is not my coffee. It is super sickly sweet. Can I please have a cup of black coffee? Plain black.”
She pours a new coffee and says calmly
“I guess you had briars for breakfast this morning, huh?”
She hands me my coffee and smiles, “I sure hope your day improves, doll.”
Oh gosh, I could poke myself in the eye.
Nothing was wrong in my life, I was not up poring coffee to travelers at 5:30 am each morning.
I didn’t not have to stand on feet that obviously need more rest and better shoes.
I had someone drive me here. I was going to see a friend for fun. I had home a guarded by a alarm system.
There she was, old, working, and trying to do a good job.
Yet I had the nerve to speak with impatience to a old woman.
Briars for breakfast is indeed what I deserved.
That saying has stuck with me for years. It seared on my brain. So when I am temped to be cross, quick to speak harshly, I picture Edna.