The King's English turns 35 today. I know! Hard to believe!
I've been associated with the store off and on since the late 80's when Betsy (I think on a whim) said, "Hey, do you want to work for us?" And I said yes! Didn't even think twice about it. It was sort of like that time I (on a whim) asked the manager of the Provo Taco Time if she was hiring, and she said yes, and I said, "Well, okay then. I'm your girl!" because I thought I could get free tacos that way. True story!
Anyway. The first day I went to work, Betsy asked me to make the coffee. And because I admired Betsy like crazy and I was also a little intimidated by her, I didn't say, "My people have all kinds of desirable skills--we can feed hordes at the drop of a hat, set up and take down for weddings, give talks, handle a glue gun like trained Navy Seals, pick cherries at a Welfare Farm, can salsa, and love our neighbors. HOWEVER. Many of us are fairly inexperienced on the coffee-making front."
That's what I should have said. But I didn't. Instead, I pulled the I'm-gonna-bluff-my-way-through-this-one card.
So I ran around looking like all busy while secretly trying to intuit my way around a coffee machine. What's this white cup thing? I wondered? And where does the actual coffee part go? And now that I think about it, where is the actual coffee?
After awhile, I realized Betsy was looking at me with this expression that I can describe as amused horror.
"You don't know how to make coffee, do you," she said finally. And I confessed. But I told her that I've always like the way it smells. Because that counts, don't you know.