Monday, June 2, 2008

Jamba Chamberlain: or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Unnecessary Yelling


Mondays are notoriously tough. Even when my Sunday funday only consists of three "dingers" and a netflix starring Diane Lane I still could feel like crap. (speaking of crap, will someone please call Diane Lane's agent. "Untraceable*" = unbearable.)

I'm not going to say "I just can't hang anymore" because that simply isn't the case. I'm strong like bull. Friday and Saturday were solid late night boozefests that resulted in me:

  • Walking half drunk to the Promenade to get my car on Saturday morning...and stopping at Macy's to buy a ridiculous linen suit** for...
  • a wedding on Main St near the beach that allowed me to walk from my apt to an open bar that was more than happy to serve me 15+ red bull vodkas...that in turn had me up at 5am thinking it would be a good idea to pop "Red Dawn" in the dvd player. Who doesn't like to hear the birds chirping to the sunrise as C Thomas Howell*** belts out one of his signature "Wolverines!" victory chants?
Oh my roommates that are trying to sleep, that's right.

The point of this recap isn't even to explain why I'm still feeling quite hungover today or why my liver and I are on a break. To tell you the truth there might not even be a point but let me go on. When I'm hungover I usually have no appetite and today was no exception. The trick is to not embrace this feeling as it is a mirage. Knowing this I went to Jamba Juice at 2pm and got myself a Citrus Squeeze w/ a protein boost and an extra immunity boost. (isn't it obvious I'm into healthy living? My body is a temple!) Like I said it's 2pm on a monday. I guess this is a dead time for the Jamba runs because I was the only person in the store. Even though I was the ONLY person in the store the Jamba Barista, if that what i should be calling her, still felt the need to yell out "DEL!......DEL!" as my order came up. Knowing there was NO ONE else in the store I looked to my left and then to my right while keeping my eyes trained on her. On her third "Del" I held up my receipt and said "That's me".

I had to respect her commitment to the Jamba workflow...but come on, I was LITERALLY**** the only person in the place.

That's it. End of story.

Notes:

*blu ray is doing Diane Lane no favors!

** No tucking in, no socks, and cargo pockets to hold the bb and the canon. A Del dream, if it didn't look so ridiculously awesome. The looks at the bars after the wedding: Less awesome. The drunk homeless man on the bench in front of a strip club asking me if I was a College Professor: awesome. Pictures***** to follow.

*** That's two blogs in the last ten days to reference C Thomas Howell. I need help. Seriously. Thank god the Manhattan Beach Six Man isn't till August. No Side Out references till then.

**** when reading this word in any of my blogs please make sure to read w/ a cockney accent.

***** Here it is, in all of its glory:

2 comments:

Felicia said...

I used to work at Jamba Juice and if you went to the one near Interep than that used to be my old stomping grounds. Although in my defense I was NEVER that girl... but then again I did work with people who took shots of wheat grass all day for fun and a guy who used to take apples and carrots and make hand-pipes out of them and smoke out in the freezer...... so, yeah...

Your double breasted suit from college said...

My Del, my Del, why have you foresaken me????

 
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