I swear that all baristas cannot hear

I am so glad that Berla isn't my real name. I have to wonder if I look like a Berla. What about me would make someone think, " She must have said Berla!" I still find it amusing and will continue to share my Starbucks adventures avec the many names. Can I call this a misnomer? I think I should. In the meantime, could you order me a non-fat, sugar-free vanilla, extra hot latte?

either way...

I was at Nordstrom a couple days ago. It had been raining all day. You know the kind of rain that seems to seep into your bones? You know it - it's the kind of rain that is unending, unfailing and ever-present. It's just the sort of thing people get sick of after weeks and weeks of beimg subjected to it's endless fury. But just before I arrived at the mall, I saw a slight twinkle of stars as the clouds parted and the rain ceased for a couple of hours.

The saleswoman, knowing that the store's closing was drawing near and that she would soon be out in the weather, asked me, "Is it still raining outside?" She stole a sideways glare at her umbrella perched against the counter behind her.

"No, it's clear out. It's actually pretty nice." I replied, also thankful for a break.

"I hope it clears up for the weekend. Do you think it will rain on Easter?" She asked with a hopefull glint in her eyes that made me smile.

Then I laid on the cheese... "Either way, the son will be here."

She looked up with a arched surprise that quickly melted into a furrorwed brow of suspicion, acknowleding my feeble attmept at wit, but was unimpressed nonetheless. I, receipt in hand, sheepishly grinned at her, shrugged and trotted on my way.

Happy Easter!