Daily fix

My former neighbor in Quantico left me a message yesterday telling me that it was snowing there and they were pretty much housebound until the storm passed. She said she couldn't help but think of the time I got my car stuck in my driveway, upon returning from my Starbucks run...in a snowstorm...with my baby.

It's true: I am a chai tea latte addict. I gave it up for the nine long months I was pregnant and happily welcomed it back once my son was born and I got the thumbs up from the doctor. It was a thrilling day.

For the most part, I have a hard time in military towns that don't have a coffee shop with a nice espresso machine within walking or at least decent driving distance from my house. I admit, I've been spoiled living in San Francisco and Manhattan where one can find a Starbucks every couple of blocks. Many would argue that this is a problem in our society...I think it's a blessing.

Luckily for me, a Starbucks had opened on Quantico's base the month before we moved. Otherwise, I would have been hauling myself on up the freeway to the Starbucks in Dumfries, VA. I chalked it up to serendipity, of course. When you're a city gal and have a little baby and live on a military base in a suburb, you can go a little stir crazy. As such, I looked forward to my jaunts to get my daily fix. Furthermore, the people watching at a Starbucks on a Marine base is phenomenal.

The morning of my infamous Starbucks run, it was definitely snowing and the weather report said it would continue all day. I figured I better get out early before the roads became too frozen and slippery. Max and a few other overly ambitious Infantrymen ran, in full gear, to class (he was in the captain's career course in Quantico as a joint service officer). When I saw that the roads had been plowed, I bundled the baby and myself up and headed to Starbucks.

The drive was fine. It was a five minute drive. Starbucks was open...albeit empty, but open. The baristas laughed at me as I slung the infant seat in the crook of my arm in order to safely carry the hot drink and the baby back to the car. With the heat blasting, I was headed home and proud of myself. Snow comes from the sky, after all, why does the whole base seem to shut down when there's a storm?

As I turned on my cul-de-sac, I felt like all of neighbors were wondering what the heck I was doing out. Base living is like that...people tend to know your moves. I turned into my driveway in first gear and the engine revved, sounding like I was on the freeway in first gear. I let the clutch out and pressed on the gas, my wheels were spinning. I was stuck.

Convinced the whole neighborhood was watching from their windows, I got out and brought the baby (who was sleeping through all of this) inside and put him in his crib. I grabbed the shovel and began shoveling my driveway (with the baby monitor in my jacket's pocket). Since much of the base was closed due to the weather, many of the Marines were home and quite a few were shoveling their driveways too.

My neighbor a few houses down yelled over to me, wondering if I needed a push for the car. "That would be great," I answered as he walked toward me. I explained that I realized I probably should have shoveled the driveway before I left. He then asked me where I had to go on this stormy morning. "Starbucks," I replied, with a guilty smile. Laughing, he pushed my car as I steered. We were a scene -- which probably was what brought my other neighbor over to assist.

Somehow in the midst of the pushing, the Starbucks story was relayed. By the end of the day, the neighborhood was buzzing. When Max got home, he laughed and said, "They don't know your determination, do they?"

That day might have been the day they figured it out.