Well.
It was definitely not my intention to let almost two whole months go by without so much as a measly “overheard in the produce section” post, I promise. It was quite the sweaty, summer blitz at The Shipyard, and almost every shift, something Balls-in-Your-Coffee-worthy would indeed happen to me, or near me, but after every shift I would slump lazily into my couch and promptly fall asleep, forgetting all about it. And then, after a few months of dragging myself out of bed at 4 am and learning to ignore my feeble alarm clock, I found myself packing up my apartment into cardboard boxes snatched from our morning frozen shipments and flying back across the country to California for some much needed R&R.
Now that August is finally dovetailing into autumn, there’s something you should know: as of next week, Balls in Your Coffee is going international. For the next few months, I will be digging around in a much, much bigger culinary scene: Paris, baby. I can’t help but snort a little laugh every time I see Testicules dans Votre Café–it somehow looks dirtier en français, doesn’t it?
I’ve been digging around in my brain for Shipyard yarns this past week, but the looming promise of baguettes, coq au vin, €3 house wines and never-ending opportunities for me to make an ass out of myself (and become that tiresome foreign shopper I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at and feel sorry for at the same time) has completely dominated my brain space. Because so much of life across the pond is consumed by the art of…well, consuming, I figure most experiences over there are fair game for you to read about here, so I’ve decided to pack you all up in my carry-on and take you along.
So there it is, in front of you. Hopefully now I can sort through my memories of exploding wine boxes, working the sample station and the drama of employee section communication logs that makes an episode of Gossip Girl look tame in comparison. And I promised you a scientific study.
It seems I have my work cut out for me. If only my bags would pack themselves.
