Beating Around the Bush.

The phrase 'beating around the bush' has always been one of those things you say without really thinking about the true meaning. Its like when we say, "I'm between a rock and a hard place" but really you're just standing there, probably on carpet with neither rocks nor hard places on either side. I bet the carpet is kinda soft too, and the closest thing to a "hard place" would be maybe a desk, or a chair...and you could just sit down on the chair. You see what I mean. Today I rethought the phrase 'beating around the bush' because of its meaning, not saying exactly what you want, while extending tenuous hints to what you wish you convey. But that meaning went up in smoke when I looked outside iCafe's window and saw someone literally beating a bush. With a broom. I just burst out laughing, and had to search wildly for an English speaking (and preferably pun-appreciative) audience to impart my joke upon. Unfortunately I found only one person, and I said excitedly, "Boy for someone who's beating around the bush, he's not being very subtle."  Which only prompted a weak chuckle. (So Mom, Sarah...this is for you). Now all I can imagine is a new meaning which is very direct and basically exactly opposite of the one I had known for years. From what I've seen in real life 'beating around the bush' is actually a very decisive action to take, with great purpose. What purpose exactly you ask, well now, I don't know. Maybe to startle napping mice just to see them scamper, or to stir up more pollen in the air for some diabolical reason to punish allergy sufferers. You tell me. But its very purposeful. Not many people idly beat around bushes...at least none that I've seen.

I am looking forward to July as the Beer Garden will open, (no I don't get to drink the beer unfortunately, but I do get to enjoy the rush of customers through the window, while I stay cool and comfortable indoors.) Also, I'll have a new 'buddy', which is a polite term for trainer here, and guess what! He speaks English! HR, all the managers and the higher level people from the hotel keep emphasizing how we should spend time with our colleagues to learn Chinese from them, and avoid spending most of our time with each other (by each other I mean the only other American employees in the hotel). So in a sense I will be spending time with my Chinese colleague, they never stipulated that he only speak Chinese. Heh.

Yesterday I made the pantry a disaster zone with one cappuccino. Ok, it was closer to five semi right cappuccinos and one tower of foam. It all started when I thought I could make the drink by myself. The coffee machine is an all in one kind of function and it includes every kind of coffee drink you'd ever want. (Actually that excludes the coffee needs of my friend Ben, who requires a triple pump of this or that, double blended with something, and maybe 6 espresso shots to water that down) I'm talking basic functions of coffee, espresso, steamed milk, cappuccino, and other stuff we never use. I, unthinkingly, pushed the button for cappuccino, and things started happening! Milk starts pouring! Espresso is shooting out! There's foam, there's steam, there's noise and hot beverages going EVERYWHERE! The first "cappuccino" I made looked like a suggestion of light caramel coloring amidst a sea of milk. SO MUCH MILK. I threw it out, and of course at that exact moment Robbie the restaurant manager strolls in and remarks offhandedly, "Why are you wasting our coffee?" My second attempt had three shots of espresso and a twinge of steamed milk...Then I decided that I'd go rogue and steam my own milk, and just use the espresso function. I've steamed milk at least once before, so nothing could go wrong. Guess how long the steam function goes for? I DON'T KNOW EITHER! Foam and milk and hot steam suddenly filled my senses and I'm yelling some unladylike things, and everyone is standing around staring at me watching me epically fail while drops of like 1000 degree milk is overflowing the canister. Milk is coursing down the counter onto the floor making a small lake, coffee is all over the counter top and I'm getting splashed from the waist down with my failings. Finally the steam shuts off and I put down the skin peeling lava milk and quietly asked Blue, my coworker to make me a cappuccino. He says, "Ok la", like he does and proceeds to perfectly, without any trouble, make a simple cappuccino. By the time I get it out to the iCafe, the customer had left. I sat the drink down on the table, walked past everyone with tears stinging in my eyes, made my way into the restroom and quietly sobbed to myself.
I came back, nose red and swollen, obviously emotional and guess what everyone does? Yeah. They're nice. Like that'll help. The nerve.
The day did eventually end, and after a while I stopped getting teary eyed and I did smile. At least once.

And on a happier note one of the girls at work today told me that everybody at iCafe likes me. Even if its not exactly true....awwwwwwwwwwwwwwww! *warm gushy fuzzy wuzzy feelings!!