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Show Coffee Drinkers Preferred Page 60 of 307 "We're not done with the trip." "You're not. I am. Thanks." For me the Eagle was just another hoop to jump through. I've spent most of my life jumping through them and I can spot others who have, too. And this dude that Ralph was walking into Starbucks with was an Eagle Scout hoop-jumper. Like Ralph, this guy was wearing one of the enormous wedding bands that all the men in Utah seem to wear. I think they imagine pounding them down into a flat ounce of gold when the economy finally goes completely belly up. It was not hard to shoot the pair standing in line. Then I zeroed in on them at their little table by the window, and furtively lined up the mike directly at them and popped in my earbuds. I could tell from their manner that they knew each other well. Had Ralph been Eagle Scout's scoutmaster? An uncle? A cousin? Who knew? And then it hit me: what business of mine was it? Playing detective, or in this case spy, seemed fun before I was actually doing it. Almost as soon as they sat opposite each other at their small table next to the window and I trained the mike on them I felt my stomach get all tangled up. How in the heck was any of this my business? This was their time. Their private time. |