Well, I started my second stint living in the south involved in petty crime and it appears I’m up to my old tricks again. Apparently, I can’t leave that life alone. Back in July, I broke into the empty house we were about to buy several times (to clean it of course) and led a brief life as a squatter when I had the movers bring all of our stuff in before we even had the keys, causing our wonderful and long suffering realtor to sweat bullets. Dealing with Bank of America’s mortgage department may have caused me to let murderous threats fly on a daily (sometimes hourly) basis but I’m not sure that’s a crime; it might be covered under the American definition of free speech. I’ve been squeaky clean since then though. Actually, I’ve been better than squeaky clean, I’ve been breathtakingly honest in situations where I could have not been and easily got away with it (West Elm are probably still thanking me for making a round trip of 60 miles to return $450 of furniture given to us by mistake. Your welcome, WE:)).
So yesterday, I popped into Bloom, our local grocery store, to pick up milk and coffee filters. I did what I always do and headed straight over to grab a cup of the free, delicious coffee they have set out in the bakery area. This stuff is liquid gold. Expensive, perfectly roasted (here in North Carolina), organic, fair trade and quite possibly the best coffee I have ever tasted. We’re coffee people, it’s practically our hobby, so trust me when I tell you this coffee is fabulous. No Folgers for us thank you, we’re bean snobs. We’ve tried every coffee brewing technique and always have the latest technology. We know coffee and we’re really quite good at it. So whenever I’m in Bloom, I always, always always grab a large cup of the deliciousness, dump in some of the creamer and pop on a lid and a cardboard cup sleeve (they have everything laid out nicely for me!) and tootle off around the store picking up my grocery bits and bobs in java heaven. Often I will go back and refill my cup before I leave the store. But lately I’ve noticed the coffee crack has became more than simply a highlight of a mundane grocery shopping trip. It is now a lure, one I just can’t resist. I have found myself popping into Bloom for pretty much any reason these days. New shoes for the kids? Let’s see if Bloom has any. Lamps for the guest room? Maybe Bloom has started selling them since I was last in there on Monday. I should probably go and check. Via the java crack table in the bakery first.
Experiencing a mid afternoon slump and needing a good coffee fix, I was glad to have a legitimate grocery need for a visit to Bloom yesterday. But as I was pouring creamer in to the steamy deliciousness yesterday, I looked off to the left and saw something I had not noticed before. It shook me rigid, I actually froze mid-creamer pour. There was a price list. Yes. They charge for the coffee but I didn’t know that. So I have never paid. Ever. I have drunk a lot of that coffee, a really, hugely mega number of gallons. I worked it out when I got home; I owe them something in region of $80.64 (not including refills). That’s a lot for someone not accustomed to stealing. I made sure I paid for the cup I had yesterday but was so flummoxed that I left with a melon and a loaf of bread instead of the milk and coffee filters I had intended to purchase. At least my face wasn’t on a wanted poster by customer service (I did check). And to make up for my thievery, I intend to buy lots of the delicious coffee beans they use (https://www.larrysbeans.com/) and I encourage you to do the same. Please. It will lessen my guilt.
