What year is this?

Francie and I went to Olympia on business (gotta love when people say 'on business') and I felt like I had walked straight into 2001. Something about the place reminded me of high school. Maybe it was all the driving to and from strip malls that we were doing to kill time.

We went to a coffee shop and there was all sorts of bootcut jeans + coach purses +  studded belts going on. I ordered two 8-ounce, 2% lattes and a chocolate chip cookie.

"OK, a chocolate chip cookie and two nonfat lattes—anything else?" the lady says.

"Nope, thats it. But actually, do you have 2% milk for those?"

"Yep. Nonfat, 2%, same thing."

I was stunned. Not knowing what to do, I just nodded and said, "Ah, okay" as if I'd only just then learned that 2% and nonfat were the same thing. Who knew? 2% and nonfat? Turns out, SAME THING. I know, crazy. All this time I was walking around thinking that they differed by a margin of exactly two percent, but I must have been mistaken!

I don't know. The situation baffles me. At first I thought maybe she was trying to say, "We don't have 2%, but is nonfat OK?" But no. She was clear. She said that 2% and nonfat were the same thing. Here's the kicker, I honestly think she believes it.

Now don't you tell me I'm being a snob. That lady works in a coffee shop—knowing the different milk percentages is 80% of the job. Also, I didn't care at all and happily guzzled my latte in less than five minutes like I always do. No harm, no foul.

An old photo and my old boots, which I'm still mourning the loss of. 

Later,
Margaret