CONFESSIONS OF A STARBUCKS PASTOR

Me: Sitting quietly, typing away working on a paper. Two women sit down next to me and chat away. Suddenly it is time to call Grant on one of their cell phones. Lady 1: Grant? Grant? Is that you? How are you? I said how are you? Can you hear? Hear Me? Grant? Are you there? Talking over you? What do you mean talking over you? Are you there? Grant? Grant? Oh. Oh! That's better can you hear me now? I couldn't really hear you before. How are you? What are you doing today? Are you going to scrimmage today? You're not going to scrimmage today? There's no practice today? Oh. I'm at Starbucks with Sally. (Hands phone to Sally urging her to say hi.) Lady 2: Hi Grant! What are you up to today? Oh. You're not going to practice? Oh. I am sitting with Sharon. Anything new? Nothing new, huh. Oh. I never learned to skate. That sounds like fun. It's cold, huh? Yeah.What else is going on? Nothing much after we are here. I'm going home. Oh....

While waiting to pay for my Starbucks decaf mocha today, I picked up a Cranberry Bliss Bar from the impulse station near the register. The expiration date said July, 2017. I set the product down and muttered to myself, "I always like to eat things with a seven-month shelf life". Other people who come into coffee shops see glass cases full of tempting goodies to eat. They will stop, oooooh and ah. Not me. I see production-line-preservative-filled crap that is stored in a freezer before it gets into that case. If I am going to eat a sugar goodie, it must be fresh. And I can tell. My food snobbery now includes bread. Forget the loaves on the bread aisle and gimme the ones near the bakery. I can even taste how many days old a birthday cake is. My family will eat off one for days. Not me. Two days max. Fresh. It must be fresh. Because of my schedule, I need to pack a lunch several days each week. I've gone down the freezer aisle multiple times hoping against hope that...