Well, I finally set foot in a Starbucks again after having largely avoided the chain for the last few years. As many of you know, my beloved local coffee shop, Montego Bay, closed their doors after being in my community for over five years.
It wasn’t just the coffee Montego Bay sold; it was the atmosphere they provided. It was a unique experience as far as coffee shops go.
It was a feel-good sorta place. At any given time, you might walk in and hear Ozzy Osbourne blasting over the speakers. Or Jimmy Buffett. Or George Strait. You just never knew what you’d hear, but there was always some sort of music playing.
It had a very relaxing, beachy feel to it. There was an overhang above the counter that made you feel as though you were walking up to a cabana bar on the beach. They had a swirling painting hanging over the Simonelli Espresso machine reminiscent of the many cerulean shades of the Caribbean. Heck, even the walls were painted a soothing Bahama blue.
The first time I walked in, I was greeted by a Val Kilmer lookalike named Blair. He was wearing a do-rag to hold back his long hair and I immediately liked him. He asked what I wanted and I said I wasn’t sure. He told me to describe what I wanted and he’d make it for me. I told him I usually order a caramel macchiato at Starbucks. So that’s what he made me. Only, this was far better than anything Starbucks has ever even thought about making.
I liked Montego Bay so much that I have a window decal on my car advertising for them. I liked the fact that on mornings when I was makeup-less, had not yet brushed my teeth, and was wearing pajamas when I dropped off the kids, I could still swing by MBC and they didn’t judge. When I’d be out & about shopping or whatever, Dan knew that I’d very likely stop by MBC and spend at least an hour.
Montego Bay Coffee was one of my happy places and I miss it terribly. I didn’t realize just how much I miss it though, until I walked into Starbucks yesterday.
(Don’t judge. I was running late and didn’t have time to make a latte at home.)
The first thing I noticed is that no one greeted me when I came through the door. No one seemed genuinely glad to see me, nor did they call me by name. There was no barstool to sit on and have a chat with the person behind the counter.
There was no music, only the din of chatter.
The next thing I noticed is I had to tell them what I wanted.
Yeah, I know, I know… the folks at Montego Bay had me spoiled a tad because I was a regular. But that’s not the point. I liked the fact that the moment they saw my car pull up, they started my caramel macchiato with half the syrup and extra froth. By the time I walked in, they were putting my coffee into my hand and asking what else they could get me.
The ordering experience at Starbucks was nothing of the sort. It made me a feel a little like cattle being rounded up to wait my turn at being put through the chute.
When my turn came, I said, “I want a Venti Caramel Macchiato with half the syrup, please.”
The teenage girl at the cash register just stared at me like I had lobsters coming out of my ears. She said, “Could you please repeat that?”
So I did. Slowly.
She asked, “You mean you want light syrup?”
I replied, “No. I want *half* the syrup you normally put in a latte.”
She said, “Are you sure you don’t want sugar-free syrup?”
I found myself wondering for the umpteenth time: Why, oh, why is it always me who gets the most clueless/rude/smartass/obnoxious/dumb/boneheaded employee a company has to offer?
It was my turn to give her a blank stare. I replied, “No, I don’t want sugar-free syrup…”
“Are you sure?” She interrupted. “Because that’s what people usually mean when they order ‘light’ syrup.”
As the increasing line of caffeine-deprived customers behind me let out a collective huff of aggravation, I mustered my remaining patience and replied, “Yes, I’m quite sure I don’t mean sugar-free. I want a caramel macchiato with two pumps of regular syrup. Just two, just regular, not sugar-free syrup. Please.”
I could almost see the light bulb come on over her head as clarity hit her.
“Oh!! Why didn’t you just say that?” She asked this as if I’d been speaking Greek the whole time.
“See, when you order coffee,” she explained as if I was a latte virgin, “There are codes and terms you have to use. ‘Light’ refers to sugar-free, not two pumps of flavoring.”
“Ah, I see.” I replied. I didn’t bother to point out to her that I never said the word “light” to begin with.
Then she asked my name so she could put it on the side of the cup. I said, “It’s Cari; C-A-R-I.”
With a confused look, she glanced down at my debit card in her hands and said, “But that’s not how it’s spelled on your card.”
She was right, of course. C-A-R-I isn’t the legal spelling of my name; however, it IS the spelling I’ve gone by since I was a kid.
Instead of attempting to explain this to the girl who had by now wasted many more minutes of my time than I wanted to give her, I replied, “You’re right, I misspelled my name. Just put it the same way it appears on the card.”
The sarcasm was completely lost on her.
After I finally got my Venti caramel macchiato (with the legal spelling of my name on the side of the cup and half the syrup, tyvm), I got in my car and took a sip. It was woefully inadequate.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Great coffee is a lot like great sex. If all you’ve ever had is average sex, then you accept it. But the moment you have amazing sex, your mind is blown. Suddenly, everything else seems pedestrian in comparison. Coffee is a lot like that for people who love coffee.
Montego Bay served velvety smooth, roasted-to-perfection coffee, prepared ANY way you could dream up. Starbucks serves coffee-flavored water with steamed milk and syrup. Yeah, it’ll do in a pinch when I’m desperate for caffeine and there isn’t a McDonald’s in sight. But it doesn’t, and never will, be able to hold a candle to Montego Bay Coffee.
I guess all of this just boils down to the fact that I miss my Montego Bay. I miss amazing coffee. I miss the breakfast burritos and the cinnamon rolls with homemade icing. I miss looking forward to the September day when Pumpkin Spice Lattes (made with real pumpkin and a secret blend of spices) would come back. I miss Holly Jolly Mochas. I miss the sight of Rooster the Red Roaster spinning around. I miss the smell of freshly roasted coffee. I miss hearing The White Stripes blasting from the speakers to help me kick-start my morning. I miss Blair, Hannah, Michaela, Morgan, Kerri, Talia, Bonnie, and the multitude of other regulars like me who’d come in on any given morning. I miss the friendship and camaraderie that comes along with being a regular at an establishment.
I miss going where everybody knew my name.
May 24, 2013
May 6, 2013
"Well, I Suwannee!"
The following is the obituary as well as the eulogy I wrote for Aunt Jeannie's memorial service.
Rest in peace, Aunt Jeannie. Godspeed.
This evening, we celebrate the life of Imagene Cribb Hurst. Or Ima, as some called her. Or Aunt Jeannie, as I called her.
I say it’s a celebration of her life because that is what tonight is. Even though we’re sad and there will be some tears; we are also celebrating her life.
As I was writing this eulogy, I debated what to say. How do you make someone who might not have known her as well as I did, understand just how wonderful a person she really was?
Let me start by telling you that Aunt Jeannie was a woman who loved her family dearly. She was so proud of each and every one of you and she loved you more than you’ll ever know.
They say you memorize the things that are most important to you. I think it’s very telling that she could tell you at the drop of a hat the ages and birthdates of each of her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren.
She was a funny woman. She had a great sense of humor and knew how to take a joke with the best of them. She and my brother, Thomas, used to prank each other back & forth. Ya’ll know those little sprayers in the sink in the kitchen? Well, one day when she was at Mama’s house, Thomas put a rubber band around the sprayer to hold the button down and turned it to just about her height so that when she turned the sink on, the water sprayed right in her face. So she got him back by hiding behind the door and scaring him just as he got out of the shower.
I remember as a little girl, seeing that yellow Beetle coming down the driveway and being so excited that Aunt Jeannie was coming and bringing kids for me to play with. I remember her bringing Jeremy to Mama’s when he was a baby. And that summer when Karen, Kim, and Kelly came to stay with us will always be one of my favorite memories.
Aunt Jeannie used to say, “Well, I Suwannee!” all the time. When I’d tease her, she’d said, “Carianne Priscilla, I Suwannee! You’re not too big for me to beat you!” Judging by the looks on some of your faces, I’m not the only one she said that to.
Now, I don’t know if she meant the river or the county… I’m still not sure. But it was one of those things she said that was uniquely her that always made me smile.
Aunt Jeannie was retired from the phone company. She worked for them back when they had to manually transfer a call. When she told me that, I remember getting a visual image of her sitting there in front of a switchboard like Sarah from "The Andy Griffith Show." I asked Aunt Jeannie if she was ever tempted to listen in on the calls like Sarah sometimes did. She said, “Of course! We weren’t supposed to but sometimes we did. Especially if we knew it was gonna be a juicy call!”
Aunt Jeannie loved to read. Now when I say she loved it, I don’t mean she kinda read a book here or there, I mean she could sit down on the couch with her morning coffee, open a new book, and by supper that book was finished.
She and I enjoyed reading the same kind of novels and one Sunday I brought her a bag full of books- about a dozen or so- and the following weekend when I was at Mama’s, she gave me the books back. I asked, “What’s the matter? Didn’t you like the books?” She replied, “Oh, I loved them! I could hardly put them down.” I said, “Well, then why are you giving them back?” She replied, “I’m finished with them.” She’d read all twelve that week.
Now, while she might have been a fast reader, she was certainly not a fast driver. Thomas and I were talking as I was writing this and he reminded of a time she got mad at him for driving so fast he made it from Live Oak to Bryceville in 45 minutes. Now, that was a trip that normally took her several hours. I can just hear her now: “Thomas Randall, I Suwannee!”
I remember Jeremy, Thomas, and I were teasing her one day about her driving and Jeremy said, “She drives so slow that bugs don’t mind hitting the windshield; they just roll off & get up and fly away.”
Aunt Jeannie enjoyed going on trips with her sisters. They’d go to the mountains, go shopping, and just enjoy spending time together. They never let her drive, though; otherwise, they’d never get there!
Aunt Jeannie was a great photographer and loved being outside so she could take pictures of everything. She had an amazing eye for details and saw beauty in ordinary things like mailboxes.
That attention to detail came through in another of her hobbies- painting. She loved to paint and painted just about everything. I am proud to say that I have several original “Ima’s” at my house. I’m sure many of you do as well.
Another thing I am especially proud of is the beautiful afghan she made me when I got married. It’s one of the gifts that I’ll always treasure because I know there was love put into every stitch.
Aunt Jeannie was stubborn as the day is long and once she had her mind made up, there was no changing it. I say that with all due love and respect because there was nothing the world she wouldn’t do for someone if she could.
I’ve heard it said that how you face life is only half as important as how you face death. If that is so, then she was courageous woman, indeed. She faced the last few months of her life with bravery, dignity, and grace beyond anything I could ever muster.
Aunt Jeannie was many things to many people. She was a Mama, and a Nana. She was Ima-gene, Ima, Sister, and "Aint" Jeannie; but most of all, she was a dear, dear friend and we are all blessed to have had her in our lives.
Her daughter, Kimberly, would like to share a poem she wrote for her Mama.
You know, I can just imagine her now walking on the streets of gold, beside the crystal sea. She's with her Mama & Daddy, cousins, sisters, and grandchildren; they’re all laughing and carrying on. I think she’d probably say, “Don’t miss me too much. The view is nice and I’m doing just fine.”
Rest in peace, Aunt Jeannie. Godspeed.
Memorial services for Imagene Hurst (69) of Bryceville, Florida, formerly of Live Oak, Florida and Willacoochee, Georgia, will be held Thursday, May 2, 2013 in the chapel of Prestwood Funeral Home. Imagene was born on November 11, 1943 in Willacoochee, Georgia, daughter of the late Jerry Jack Cribb and the former Mary Elizabeth Floyd. She passed away April 29, 2013 following a lengthy illness. She is survived by her children, Robby Cribb (Tracy), Kelly Douglas (Jimmy), Karen DeWitt (Michael), Kim Terranova (Glen) and Jeremy Taylor; grandchildren, Lisa Cribb, Jennifer Cribb, Tiffany Miller, Ashley Miller, Hannah Miller, Adam Taylor, Abby Bolstein, Lindsey DeWitt, Chad Taylor, Cody Terranova, Zachary Terranova, Kierstin Taylor and Tristyn Taylor; 17 great grandchildren and numerous extended family members and friends.
Don’t cry for me for now I have died
For I am still here, I am by your side
My body is gone but my soul is here
Please don’t shed another tear
I am still here all around
I am the snowflake that kisses your nose
I am the frost that nips your toes
I am the sun bringing light
I am a star shining so bright
I am the rain refreshing the earth
I am the laughter, I am the mirth
I am the bird up in the sky
I am the cloud that’s drifting by
I am the stillness before the dawn
While I’m still here, I can’t be gone.
This evening, we celebrate the life of Imagene Cribb Hurst. Or Ima, as some called her. Or Aunt Jeannie, as I called her.
I say it’s a celebration of her life because that is what tonight is. Even though we’re sad and there will be some tears; we are also celebrating her life.
As I was writing this eulogy, I debated what to say. How do you make someone who might not have known her as well as I did, understand just how wonderful a person she really was?
Let me start by telling you that Aunt Jeannie was a woman who loved her family dearly. She was so proud of each and every one of you and she loved you more than you’ll ever know.
They say you memorize the things that are most important to you. I think it’s very telling that she could tell you at the drop of a hat the ages and birthdates of each of her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren.
She was a funny woman. She had a great sense of humor and knew how to take a joke with the best of them. She and my brother, Thomas, used to prank each other back & forth. Ya’ll know those little sprayers in the sink in the kitchen? Well, one day when she was at Mama’s house, Thomas put a rubber band around the sprayer to hold the button down and turned it to just about her height so that when she turned the sink on, the water sprayed right in her face. So she got him back by hiding behind the door and scaring him just as he got out of the shower.
I remember as a little girl, seeing that yellow Beetle coming down the driveway and being so excited that Aunt Jeannie was coming and bringing kids for me to play with. I remember her bringing Jeremy to Mama’s when he was a baby. And that summer when Karen, Kim, and Kelly came to stay with us will always be one of my favorite memories.
Aunt Jeannie used to say, “Well, I Suwannee!” all the time. When I’d tease her, she’d said, “Carianne Priscilla, I Suwannee! You’re not too big for me to beat you!” Judging by the looks on some of your faces, I’m not the only one she said that to.
Now, I don’t know if she meant the river or the county… I’m still not sure. But it was one of those things she said that was uniquely her that always made me smile.
Aunt Jeannie was retired from the phone company. She worked for them back when they had to manually transfer a call. When she told me that, I remember getting a visual image of her sitting there in front of a switchboard like Sarah from "The Andy Griffith Show." I asked Aunt Jeannie if she was ever tempted to listen in on the calls like Sarah sometimes did. She said, “Of course! We weren’t supposed to but sometimes we did. Especially if we knew it was gonna be a juicy call!”
Aunt Jeannie loved to read. Now when I say she loved it, I don’t mean she kinda read a book here or there, I mean she could sit down on the couch with her morning coffee, open a new book, and by supper that book was finished.
She and I enjoyed reading the same kind of novels and one Sunday I brought her a bag full of books- about a dozen or so- and the following weekend when I was at Mama’s, she gave me the books back. I asked, “What’s the matter? Didn’t you like the books?” She replied, “Oh, I loved them! I could hardly put them down.” I said, “Well, then why are you giving them back?” She replied, “I’m finished with them.” She’d read all twelve that week.
Now, while she might have been a fast reader, she was certainly not a fast driver. Thomas and I were talking as I was writing this and he reminded of a time she got mad at him for driving so fast he made it from Live Oak to Bryceville in 45 minutes. Now, that was a trip that normally took her several hours. I can just hear her now: “Thomas Randall, I Suwannee!”
I remember Jeremy, Thomas, and I were teasing her one day about her driving and Jeremy said, “She drives so slow that bugs don’t mind hitting the windshield; they just roll off & get up and fly away.”
Aunt Jeannie enjoyed going on trips with her sisters. They’d go to the mountains, go shopping, and just enjoy spending time together. They never let her drive, though; otherwise, they’d never get there!
Aunt Jeannie was a great photographer and loved being outside so she could take pictures of everything. She had an amazing eye for details and saw beauty in ordinary things like mailboxes.
That attention to detail came through in another of her hobbies- painting. She loved to paint and painted just about everything. I am proud to say that I have several original “Ima’s” at my house. I’m sure many of you do as well.
Another thing I am especially proud of is the beautiful afghan she made me when I got married. It’s one of the gifts that I’ll always treasure because I know there was love put into every stitch.
Aunt Jeannie was stubborn as the day is long and once she had her mind made up, there was no changing it. I say that with all due love and respect because there was nothing the world she wouldn’t do for someone if she could.
I’ve heard it said that how you face life is only half as important as how you face death. If that is so, then she was courageous woman, indeed. She faced the last few months of her life with bravery, dignity, and grace beyond anything I could ever muster.
Aunt Jeannie was many things to many people. She was a Mama, and a Nana. She was Ima-gene, Ima, Sister, and "Aint" Jeannie; but most of all, she was a dear, dear friend and we are all blessed to have had her in our lives.
Her daughter, Kimberly, would like to share a poem she wrote for her Mama.
Once upon a time, an angel held my hand
She wiped away my tears and helped me understand
Our time on earth is brief
There’s lessons to be learned
Each precious day, God gives us another page to turn
Every chapter full of memories, times of joy and tears
Triumphs and defeats, through every passing year
Angels come in many forms, for me it is my mother
With love I cannot say in words there'll never be another
Thank you God for giving me the most priceless of all treasures
I hope she’s smiling down from heaven knowing she did good
As we gather here today there's no ending to her story
Another chapter has begun full of grace and glory
Gods called her to his heavenly home, part of His great plan
Although it may be hard, we all must understand
Faith is what is hoped for, things we cannot see
Heaven is promised to all of us if only we believe.
You know, I can just imagine her now walking on the streets of gold, beside the crystal sea. She's with her Mama & Daddy, cousins, sisters, and grandchildren; they’re all laughing and carrying on. I think she’d probably say, “Don’t miss me too much. The view is nice and I’m doing just fine.”
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