There we were, visiting the local Starbucks as usual, and they know Luke by face, by name, so it wasn't unusual that the smiling blond brought him his pastry right to our table. But then everything proceeded to go off the path of expectation when she knelt down beside him and began to meticulously cut his pastry into tiny pieces.
What the what?!
I sat there seething, trying to be polite and therefore biting my tongue, but angry at her attention and annoyed that my husband didn't seem to mind. When she finally stopped and walked away, I let my husband have it.
"Look, I appreciate that they know you well here and all, but that was going too far. Come on! What was she thinking! Why didn't you tell her to stop?"
Then she walked by again, so I had to shut up. She was all smiles, as if I wasn't even there at all.
When she had passed, Luke said, "It's not that big of a deal. You're making too much out of this."
Argh! That only made me angrier. Then the barista had the nerve to come by again, addressing only my husband, and tell him that they had a nice wine available and he was welcome to his first two glasses on her, but he'd have to pay for his third.
I couldn't stand it! I stormed out, getting in the car to go home. I reasoned it all out again, knowing that I was in the right, ready to blow up at my husband when he came out.
Then a voice started yelling, "Mommy! Mommy!" I awoke with a start, realized it was night and I was in bed, dreaming. As I went to check on my son I vowed to remember the dream so I could scold Luke in the morning.
A few hours later, I awoke again, this time to the sounds of Luke getting ready for work.
"Hey," I said. "I had this crazy dream." I told him all that I remembered.
"Well that just sounds like good service," he replied, laughing, when I'd finished my tale.
"Ya, well she wasn't your type. She was blond."
"Oh," he said. "Well then there's nothing to worry about."