As I enter the single digits of being a Bloomingdale resident no more, I ponder the nitty gritty details of living in a new town. As a creature of habit (what human isn’t?), I am now thinking about my daily schedule (as it exists now), and what I’ll have to adjust to when I move. Let’s start with Starbucks….
The Starbucks I frequently visit knows what I want. I don’t have to utter a word to the china doll face lady, or to the lady who dyed her hair red when she really shouldn’t have because it doesn’t do her any good for her looks, or to the manager with the constant carpel tunnel syndrome brace she wears on her right hand. They all know me by my drink, but not by my name. I call them by their nicknames that I have thoughtfully given them: China Doll Face Lady (Scary enough for a “Chucky” Sequel), The Smoker, (because she’s always outside having a smoke when I drive up), and Manager – Just Manager.
It’s a breeze.
If there is a long line, my drink is already waiting for me at the register. It’s customer service at its finest.
Now I have to train a new Starbucks. (sigh). However, I bet after a dozen visits, they’ll get it down pat and it will be the same high customer service, high priced green tea latte’s I always get.
What about dry cleaning? Everytime I go into my neighborhood dry cleaners the guy sees me and already has my clothes ready to check out. I don’t even need my ticket. He knows how much starch my husband likes on his shirts. Again, I have to train a new dry cleaners the finer art of knowing me and what I want, but not so much by my name.
Then I scout the grocery stores. This is a big one for me. However, where I will live, the choices are endless and I needn’t go far if one store doesn’t have what I need. I know the other one will, and it will be a fight to the death of the last lettuce head for the grocery store chains on who gets my business.
Where I live now, I no longer frequent Meijer. Why? Because everytime I returned to my car, I had a dent in it from a grocery cart, or some old guy would try to hit me while driving the wrong way in the parking lot. Not only that, Meijer is BIG. Too big for me. Too many choices, and not enough people at the deli counter. I timed it once: twenty minutes for a pound of salami. Really? Jesus, lady if it takes you a manual to learn how to work the meat slicer, maybe you shouldn’t be working behind the deli counter. And, if I ever get a digit in my ham purchase, I’ll be sure to have my lawyer contact your lawyer.
So, I go to Dominicks where I have to deal with the big, fat, milk mouth guy who has dandruff, doesn’t know how to bag my groceries, and talks too much for his own good. Who the hell thinks they can put 3 liters of Diet Coke in a thin plastic bag and it will hold? I know, I know…I DO have several reusable bags, but guess what? They are normally left at home where I have forgotten them along with the coupons that took me three hours to look up, print and cut out. They don’t know my name there either. Anyway, I digress…..
Hardware stores? Doesn’t matter. But I am impressed with the local Ace Hardware where we are moving. The entire rainbow of resin plastic lawn chairs is in their front parking lot. Every single color imaginable is available for the taking. I may have to partake in two of these chairs for our newly aquired front porch, but they won’t be violet or flaming red since I don’t want to piss off my new neighbors and look like we’ve converted our 1921 victorian into a mobile home.
Local Pub? No problem there. We’ve already frequented several of the local eateries and love them all. Plus, in the summer they are all dog friendly, so we can walk to downtown and bring the pups with us. We tried this last week as a test to see how the dogs would do. Most people had to step over Sarge since he decided to just lay down and go to sleep on the sidewalk. Never move a sleeping dog. Especially a BIG sleeping dog. The big plus is that they got their own individual bowls of water, and everyone wanted to pet our dogs. They’re already popular!
Banks? Check. Post Office? Check. Library? Check. Wheaton College is right down the road too. Maybe I could take a religious class…..let’s leave that one UNCHECKED.
I know where the funeral home is………………………….Dave. Yet, I know I’ll die before him. I’m on the nine year plan. Some people just know when they’re gonna die. For me, it’s nine years from now. How do I know this? I just know – don’t ask questions. Enjoy my company while you can – that is….IF you enjoy my company. If not, have a party at my demise. I estimate roughly 10 people at my funeral. All who HAD to be there out of obligation. Dave laughs at this suggestion, as well as I because I know it’s true. This would call for stand-in’s to look like I was popular and well liked. If you’re interested in being a stand in at my funeral please contact Dave.
Wheaton is also the religious capital of the world. A Theophilosopical College is there (Dave likes to mention that the Dali Lama has visited there every time we drive past it), and I swear on my mother’s grave if he mentions it again when we drive past someone is gonna be dead before I am.
Office Supply Store – Too many to count. Why is this? Is Wheaton the Office Supply Store Capital of the United States? Oh wait….that’s not right. Wheaton is the Hair Salon/Spa Capital of the United States. I’m not kidding. There are two hair salons and/or spas on every single block. This means I will have to change where I get my hair cut. This won’t go over very well with my current hairdresser, but sometimes a girl just has to do what a girl has to do.
So, my habitual day to day errands seem to all be accounted for in my new ‘hood. This will be our last move. Dave and I will die there. We’ll be like two old people who sit on their front porch in the summer yelling at the kids walking by to get off our front lawn.
Instead of taking us 10 minutes to walk to town, it will take us an hour (by walker) or speedy scooter. But, we’re fine with that because we love where we are moving. It’s our dream home. A home where I can dream day in and day out…week after week. Month after month. Year after year.
I wonder if anyone will know my name.