From time to time, I get asked to show up at this or that function and help out. Just about every time I've done so, I've had a good time. And people around here are awfully good about writing thank-you notes for that kind of thing. But a half-dozen or so times this year, they've gone a step further and given me a Starbucks gift card, so I've been steadily accumulating a stake in Starbucks' inventory.
Problem is, I can't stand Starbucks.
Now, don't think I don't appreciate their effort. Their motive is entirely generous, and I do feel a momentary flash of pleasure when I see evidence of such consideration. But only momentary. A moment later, I think "What am I going to do with this? I haven't even tapped into the first five they gave me." And I think it points up the problem with trying to deal with a group as iconoclastic as academics tend to be.
So, yesterday I managed to put a tiny dent in my accumulated wealth by using a walk to Starbucks and a free beverage as an excuse to have a needed conversation with a very good student. I even left it unclear whether the student needed to give me the gift card back. But back it came, so this morning I went and stocked up on the one Starbucks item I actually do enjoy:

On my walk back, I had all five tins stuffed in my pocket, so every step I took with that foot made this wonderful crunching sound. A lady I encountered apparently noticed it, because she looked down at my leg, and then made eye contact, with a tiny knit to her brow. "Old war wound," I said. God knows what she thought.
In this kind of thing, I'm far from alone. If you talk to a dozen academics, you'll soon uncover a dozen zillion quirks. And yet, from time to time, the poor staff folks have to try to select a treat, answer a question, project an opinion, from the perspective of a generic faculty member. That's like trying to find one drop of water that's representative of the ocean.
My hat's off to them. Certainly not a job I would want.
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