In Central New York (where I am originally from) there is a place called the “Slice and Go Deli”. It never looked appealing in the least until I became a mother. How much I would love for something like the Slice and Go Deli to be here in the suburbs of Boston so I could get a nice roast beef sandwich or a ½ pound of Boars Head turkey without unstrapping my kids from their car seats to go inside.
Not only does this take a lot of physical energy and effort, it takes some mental sharpness to convince them that going into the grocery store will be “fun”.
Yesterday I considered offering to buy a stranger a cup of coffee if they pick me up a Dunkin Donuts Medium Regular while I sat in the parking lot with my sleeping 3 year old.
This type of brazen behavior is not beneath me. A few years ago I rolled down my window and asked some lady I didn’t know if she’d poke her head into the drycleaners and tell them to come outside. There is a nice family who owns the drycleaners and they will bring my drycleaning out to me or help me bring it inside. They have also been known to hold my baby while I run to the car. Hey, it takes a village.
Anyway, I know I am surrounded by quaint New England towns where the selectmen don’t cotton to Drive Thru businesses, but I could sure go for the drive thru Daquiri place I saw when I visited New Orleans.
