Every week I seem to encounter more differences. Between there and here. I notice them. Observe them. Sometimes I am disappointed. Sometimes gladdened. Sometimes delighted.
Chocolate croissants. I was perplexed when the clerk at Starbucks asked me what I was looking for and responded that the chocolate croissant I wanted would be available next year. It was a new thing for Starbucks, she explained. Huh? I have always gotten chocolate croissants at Starbucks…since…well, as far as I could remember. For at least the last twelve or thirteen years. But that was there. This is here. No chocolate croissants until next year. Got it.
Rainstorms. And I do mean storms. Nothing like the drizzle or light rain that would shut down stores and services there. During Halloween, rain lashed the roof and windows, being blown almost horizontally for hours. I watched the street become a river and listened to the pounding of the rain. I hoped for Samson (my car) not to float away. And then sat back and enjoyed the rainstorm. There is something nice and cozy about being inside during a rainstorm. An honest-to-God rainstorm.
Pneumatic tubes and drive-through banks. There were no drive-through banks or even drive-up ATMs there. ‘Tis true. Not only have I seen lots of drive-up windows at banks here, which harks back to earlier times for me, but the other day at the bank I saw a pneumatic tube. In action. Which makes sense. They are needed to interact with customers at the drive-up windows. I always liked pneumatic tubes. They seemed like so much fun when I was a kid. They remind me of standing by my mom at the local department store, Lowenstein’s…when I reached her waist. Watching the clerk place the receipt and payment in a tube. Whoosh. It was gone. Whoosh. It came back. And the clerk pulled out a container and gave my mom her change.
Maybe pneumatic tubes aren’t so old school. They might make a come back with high-speed travel. For humans. I like watching things go whoosh in pneumatic tubes. I am just not sure that I want to be one of those things going whoosh. Or splat, as the case may be.