Monday, September 9, 2013

Tramping


After I drop Little K off at preschool, I often head to a local coffee shop for a Sugar-Free Skinny Vanilla Iced Latte with 2 extra shots of Espresso.  I know... I annoy myself.



Generally I have a bit of time to chat up the baristas while they are creating my novel of a drink.  This is a conversation that took place last week with the coffee girl who I’ve been chatting with for years, after I had noticed a tattoo on the inside of her wrist.
Me: Is that a white ink tattoo?
B (for Barista, because I don’t know her name): It is!
Me: Is it new?  I always see them on Pinterest but have never seen one in person.
B: No, I got it a long time ago when no one would do them.  I had to go to a guy’s house to get it done because I couldn’t find anyone who did white ink.
Me: Oh so you totally had it before it was cool.
B: Oh yeah.  But before anyone had seen them, people used to ask me if I had cut myself.  I don’t think I could cut in a pattern like that.
Me: You’re a cutter.  But a fancy cutter.
B: Exactly.  A fancy cutter.
Me: Anyway, I like your tattoo.  I’ve been admiring those for a while.  I have a tattoo on my low back.  Yes, it’s a “tramp stamp”.  But it’s a cross.  So I guess it’s okay, since I’m tramping for Christ.
**silence**
B: Okay well here’s your coffee.


I think I might have muttered something about not really being a tramp, but by that point the damage was done. 
I don’t think people understand my awkward sense of humor.   Maybe I forgot to mention that this coffee shop is also a Christian book store.  But I like to think my Jesus has a stellar sense of humor.  My husband said that I shouldn't talk to strangers.  But, in my defense she wasn’t a complete stranger.  And my life would be way less exciting if I wasn’t continually saying inappropriate things.

Thanks for letting me be weird.  And thanks for keeping me In Good Company.

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