All this week’s meditation and contemplating has yet to make me a good person, as evidenced by three things today.
This morning I went to Gaest, a Scandinavian coffee shop near the office. They were frying vinegar in a wok. I don’t know why. Is that a Scandinavian thing? A Singaporean thing? A thing Scandinavians do in Singapore because they think it makes them more ‘local’? A thing Singaporeans do in Scandinavian cafes because they figure it’s what everyone expects?
I ordered a flat white. A minute later, a paper cup arrived on the counter with a hot beverage in it. I took it. It tasted disgusting. Eventually I took the lid off, and after looking at it for a while, realised I’d drunk somebody else’s tea. I gave it back to the barista, he gave me my coffee, and I never apologised to whatever person in my decaffeinated state I’d robbed of their drink.
My coffee tasted like tea. That’s not quite food turning to ashes in your mouth, but close…
I bought four cupcakes at the Marmalade Bakery. A strawberry one, a peanut butter one just for my wife, an apple one and a smore one, made with graham crackers and marshmallows. Surely the stunt cupcake par excellence. Then I ate two of them. Two cupcakes is too many cupcakes. The apple one Waa too sweet, the smore one was horrendously oversweet, and by the time I got to the strawberry one, self loathing had set in, but not faat enough to prevent crimes against healthy eating.
For my third trick, when La Serpiente asked for me to play “Let It Go” on the computer, I acquiesced. But used the banjo version. This is hardly in line with Luke 11:11-13.
I must get better. I must, I must…
2 responses to “Three personal failures”
You had me rushing to the King James’. O lackaday!
Even my kids don’t like cupcakes, it’s a sure indictment when a child says something is too sweet. They were however very impressed by the crushed chocolate cookies I bought from Waitrose for 5p each.
Just remember, never eat the cupcakes, and you’ll be fine. The tea person was probably pleasantly surprised by their drink, which was after all the opposite of the becoming-ash process.