Refrigerator Blindness

I mostly think that what goes on inside this 1.5 pound chunk of grey meat is more wonderful than all of everything that goes on outside of it.

So there I am yesterday morning at the breakfast buffet in The Hampton Inn in Painted Post NY .

I've plunked a great steaming dollop of wake-me-up extra-strong in my paper cup.

I've peeled back and squeezed out two French Vanilla capsules of sweetened milk-stuff.

I've torn the corner of a sachet of sugar, tipped half the sachet in my cup, and leant the sachet against the stand for I'll need that for my second cup in about 90 seconds.

All I need now is one of those brown plastic stir-sticks to mix it all in, after which I'll drop the brown plastic stir-stick into the garbage along with the two empty creamer capsules.

I can do this!

• Eyes front; no brown plastic stir-sticks.

• Eyes scan left then back to centre; no brown plastic stir-sticks.

• Eyes scan right then back to centre; no brown plastic stir-sticks.

What kind of hotel puts out the most lavish breakfast buffet in NY state and doesn't provide brown plastic stir-sticks?

Young man next to me coughs politely and asks "Can I help you with something?".

"Yes", I respond, for we are in the same boat and both desperate for our first coffee. "I can't find the brown plastic stir-sticks".

He points to the beaker right in front of me, full of candy-striped plastic stir-sticks

My brain has decided it wants a brown plastic stir-stick, and my eyes/brain are therefore looking for brown plastic stir-sticks.

Nothing but brown plastic stir-sticks can be deemed success, so I've glossed right over candy-pink striped plastic stir-sticks because they aren't brown plastic stir-sticks.

Talk to Me !

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