Apparently I am easily mistaken for a nun these days.
This morning, as I pulled up to the ordering window of my sometime local coffee spot, the young male barista said, with barely a glance in my direction, "What would you like today, Sister Patricia?"
When I stared at him speechless, he turned his head all the way around to fully look at me and exclaimed, a little embarrassed, "Oh, you're not Sister Patricia!"
I had thought for a moment he was calling me 'sista' and had somehow gotten my name wrong...but no...he actually meant Sister...as in nun.
Asking the logical question I said "So, um, does Sister Patricia drive the same kind of car I do?"
"No, hers is blue." (Mine, gentle readers is silver.)
Despite fearing his response, I couldn't help but query further, "So do I look a lot like this Sister Patricia?"
The young barista shook his head. "Not really, her hair is gray." (Mine, gentle readers is Feria Red #67.) "Maybe a little around the eyes."
At that point I burst out laughing while I thought, "Well, it SURE can't be my demeanor...or my language!"
Now just to tease the poor guy (I TOLD you I was no nun) I asked, "Does she wear regular clothes or a nun outfit?"
"Regular clothes. Which surprised me," he said. "I didn't think they were supposed to wear regular clothes. She must be one of those hippy nuns...one of those 2010 nuns."
I was laughing uproariously by that point, having (to my knowledge) never before been mistaken for a nun. Or having ever considered the possible existence of "hippy nuns".
The young guy grinned back, handed me my iced venti Americano with cream and said, "It's on the house."
I thanked him and as I drove away he leaned out the window and hollered, "Have a holy day!"
And after THAT, how could I NOT?