The Refectory Manager

The refectory . . . A place to nourish the soul. A place to share the savory comestibles, the sweet confections, the salty condiments of the things that matter. A place to ruminate the cud of politics. A place to rant on the railings of religion. A place to arrange the flowers of sanguine beauty. A place to pause in the repose of shelter. Welcome, my friend. The Refectory Manager

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Location: College Place, Washington, United States

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Financing Coffee

So I still had a bit of a drive to get home. The wind was blustery, and I was cold. A cup of Joe was the thing that I needed.

Driving through the little town of Pendleton, OR, I spotted an old converted-from-something-that-had-previously-failed building sporting a "Fresh Donuts" sign with the annotation "Open." Certainly, they would sell coffee. Besides, I like the little one-of-a-kind places over the ubiquitous national chains.

The Chinese lady was sitting in the back booth, talking up a Chinese storm on the cell-phone, and got up to position herself behind the counter. The eye of the Chinese cyclone apparently just happened to be passing overhead . . . she gave her undivided attention to me.

"Do you have coffee to go?" Dumb question, I know. But what was I supposed to say, "Do you only have coffee to stay?"

"Certainly," she replied in English, and then a little excitable Chinese cyclone back into the phone.

"What sizes do you have?" I ask, expecting choices for at least three bladder sizes.

She pointed to the styro-cups, "That is the only one."

Fine. "I want one."

She set the cup down under the air-pump dispenser to my left. "That will be a dollar twenty five." Sounds reasonable to me.

So I pull out my wallet and extract a dollar bill and say "There's the first installment, the next in thirty days," then place the dollar bill beside her till. With one hand trying to stuff my wallet back into my back pocket, and the other hand trying to rummage for a quarter in the front pocket, she snaps right back with her in-head differential calculus solution "That will be a dollar thirty-three then. Thirty percent interest."

By then I find the quarter and jokingly ask "Is that compounded semi-hourly?"

"Of course. That's business. That is how we business people do business!"

"Oh! I see!"

And interrupting her Chinese cyclone again, "Are you sure you really don't want a donut?"

I was impressed again as to why I am not in business!


The Refectory Manager

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