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I’ve made no secret about my love of coffee. My coffee snobness has gotten so bad that I can no longer drink the coffee at work and must purchase a dark roast from the local coffee chain every morning.

For the last 9 months after dropping of Riley I head over to the Dunn Bros. near daycare. Every morning I order a large dark roast and I pay with my credit card. Most mornings I run into the barista, Aaron. We don’t say much to each other. I place my order, he gets me my coffee. Most mornings the moment my car rolls into the parking spot my coffee is ready.

On the mornings that a new person is working the counter I get asked if I want their punch card frequent buyer card. I always turn them down citing that my wallet is already large enough. Every once in awhile Aaron will give me a free coffee “just because.” And every once in awhile I’ll drop in a $5 dollar tip in for the good service.

So this morning I roll up to Dunn Bros. like I do every morning. As I walk in the store I grab for my wallet. Unfortunately all I grab is my ass, there is no wallet. After losing my wedding band (a story for a different day) I’m a little nuts about my things. I panic, wondering if I’d dropped it at the gym last night. I hightail it back to the car to give Courtney a buzz.

While this is happening I notice the daily routine of my coffee being poured inside. I felt bad but I was going to need to blow off Dunn Bros. this morning. I just didn’t have the money.

As I waited for Courtney to pick up her cell phone one of the baristas walked out to my car and handed me my daily coffee. I looked at her and thanked her and explained my situation. She said it was on the house anyways. While a free cup of coffee isn’t an extraordinary  gesture, I appreciated the fact they went so far as to walk it out to my car.

Aaron and his cohorts are good folk. If you’re ever looking for coffee in the morning, I’d head over to Dunn Bros. in Maple Grove.

A few years ago we learned a hard lesson about our street block. The southern end tends to flash flood in heavy rain. We learned the hard way and had to have $1500 worth of carpet repaired in our old Honda.

I arrived home yesterday during the torrential rain last evening to find no less than 4 cars in various predicaments at the end of the street. I felt bad for them but they had already gone in too deep. There wasn’t much they could do except push their car out and wait for it to dry out. Unfortunately they too had to learn the hard way.

In a panic I called Courtney, who was following me home, “DO NOT COME HOME FROM THE SOUTH!” I shouted on her voicemail. About 10 minutes later she arrived home with her car just fine.

Over lunch I ran to Texaco to run my car through the car wash. I waited in line behind an SUV. The SUV entered their code and proceeded to drive into the wash. But she drove too far and drove over the wheel sensor. The wash started beeping constantly and signs started flashing that she should back up. Instead, she drove forward and out of the wash. So there I am, code in hand, with her wash incomplete and lights flashing for the non-existant car to back up. What did I do? I did what any cold-blooded american would have. I drove into the bay and stole her wash.