Jay kept his place in line at the Palm Springs Starbucks. He remembered when they used to sell coffee. He remembered all the varietals under the counter. The shiny dark beans, dated and organized by growing region. Such great coffee. For now the line that held Howard Behar and him was not moving very fast. It was not moving anywere near as fast as Jay’s mind was.
It was just this morning in the hotel when he woke up facing his ten hour day that it happened yet again. When his phone woke Jay up, it took a second to realize and remember where he was. That must have been the trigger. He was not at home in his drafty- ass house in his bed. That instant of uncertainty sent his mind to “If I had“. This was a place Jay didn’t really like to go. We all go there once in while in our own minds. The unique, special place where we relive our lives on the proviso that if we had done that ONE THING differently, then our lives would be all candy and nuts, days of wine and roses, and nights of contended worry free slumber. For, Jay, that morning it meant he would not be putting on his blue collar work uniform in a cramped hotel bathroom but rather he would have been wondering what would be the best way to spend his day at his ocean front villa. It could have been- so easily. All he had to do was do what Howard Behar did and stay at Starbucks until his 268 options on shares of Starbucks stock matured and a few year ago, he’d would have become a millionaire. Just that easy.
Instead, Jay looked around the hotel room and centered himself. No, it was not his beach house. There was his uniform on the chair ready to to. Just like at home, he always got ready the night before. The uniform held his life, the mortgage, grocery store, bills and self-image. Jay was a working stiff. Howard Behar on the other hand is a millionaire many times over. His boss, Howard Schultz, a billionaire. “Why didn’t I just stay at Starbucks…If I had, then I… ??
Odd that Jay had the “If I had ” thought this morning and then see Howard Behar in line at the Starbucks near his hotel. They say our thoughts become our reality.” I have been thinking about re-booting the cover of Tripio to highlight his blurb. I bet he doesn’t remember he did it. That was two years ago. The book, Tripio, has to start selling at some point. How else will I ever be able to stop working? If I just cut in line. Or wait until he gets his drink, then I can step over and introduce myself. He as always nice to me when he visited my stores at Starbucks a million years ago. Why not? The line has started moving. He could get Tripio to Howard Schultz. I really think he’d like it. A nostalgia trip for him. He’s not running for president anymore. He has time to read it. And from there…best seller? What do I have to lose?”
