Routine

“Lather, Rinse, Repeat” stated the back of the Pantene Pro-V bottle.  Closing his eyes, he stroked his head counting out the forth and final repetition of his hair cleaning regiment.  Grabbing the bar of soap, he rubbed it against his arms, chest, legs, and back each exactly three, two, three, and five times respectively.  The steam wobbled upwards as the water indiscriminately bathed over him, ultimately funneling down into the rusty graded drain.  “7:36 AM” read his nine-year-old calculator watch.  Time to get out.  Slowly stepping out of the tub, pausing to yawn, he grabbed the nearest towel and dried himself off, making sure to start with his lower body and finishing up with his hair.   Wiping the mirror, he stared fascinatingly at his doughy skin.  I could use a tan.  Shrugging indifferently, he plodded to his room and slipped into his button up and khakis.  First, zip up your khakis.  Now button the collar and bottom button.  Then button the rest of your shirt.  “7:45 AM” It’s time to go to work.  Whistling as he shuffled to the living room, he grabbed the apple and baggie of cereal he’d set up the night before on the kitchen counter and made his way to the front door.  Whoa, I’m forgetting something.  My keys.  He then scanned his cozy one room apartment and found them lying on the countertop.  Crap, how could I forget to take the keys?  I always put them in my pocket exactly two minutes after dressing up.  Shit, I can feel already that this is going to be a bad day.  In a hustle, he briskly snatched the keys and jogged out the door.

Jeremy was a completely normal, typical, everyday, commonplace, ordinary guy.  Physically, he was a 5’8”, brown-haired, brown-eyed Caucasian.  Routinely, he’d wear a white T and a pair of blue jeans, neither crispy nor faded.  In his high school years, he was academically average.  He was the second string quarterback for the football team.  He had a handful of close friends, well maybe not close, but he had a few friends.  Later, Jeremy attended San Francisco State University majoring in communications.  He then ended up working as the assistant secretary for a local mortgage company.  With his accumulated two years of paychecks, he purchased his first used car and to this day continued to commute to work in his 96’ Carola.

Since college, Jeremy would always make time to stop by the nearby Starbucks and start his day with a tall café latte and a banana nut muffin.  This was the staple of his daily routine, but on one particular day, Jeremy felt something inside of him.  That day, he was feeling spontaneous, unique.

Waiting in line as the cashier helped the customers ahead of him, Jeremy couldn’t help but feel anxious, unnerved.  For the past six years, he’d always been following the same procedure, but now all of a sudden, a foreign urge to do something different was apparent.  What should I do?  A banana nut muffin is always good, but for some odd reason that carrot cake is looking good too.  This is so confusing.  I’m stuck.  Banana nut has that sweet familiar crunch, but carrot cake has that succulent frosting and gooeyness to it.  Shit, which should I choose? Which one, which one, which one? 

“Jeremy, you there?  Jeremy?” asked the boy at the register.

“Huh, oh yeah sorry,” answered Jeremy, sweat dripping down his forehead.

“Are you okay? You don’t look so well,” inquired the boy.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” replied Jeremy, eyes shifting back and forth between pastries.

“So what can I get ya? The regular? Or do you feel like mixing it up today?” asked the boy.

Regular or variation?  Regular or variation?  Regular or variation?  Regular or variation?  Regular or variation? I don’t know.  Is this okay?

“You there?” asked the boy once more looking irritated.

“Sorry, um, I’ll have… I’ll have…  The regular please.  Yeah, the regular, what am I thinking,” stammered Jeremy.
            “Er, okay.  No problem, it’s fine,” replied the boy.

            Clicking the register open, Jeremy paid the usual $6.35 and walked over to the near by couch.  What the hell is going on? This isn’t like me.  I’ve always started my day with a tall café latte and a banana nut muffin.  How could I want something else?  This isn’t like me.  But carrot cake sounds so delicious.  Maybe I should return this muffin and exchange it for the carrot cake.  Yeah, I think I’ll do that.  Change can be good right?

Creeping to the front of the line, Jeremy placed the muffin on the counter as the rest of the impatient customers stared annoyingly at him.

“Sorry, I actually changed my mind,” whispered Jeremy, a little bit embarrassed.
            Resting against the coffee machine, tapping his fingers on the counter, and obviously just as irritated as the customers were, the cashier responded, “No problem.  What would you like instead?”

All of a sudden, the feeling of impulsiveness rushed to Jeremy’s head yet again.  Oh, no! Gazing at the delectable pastries within the lightly refrigerated glass chamber, Jeremy was set off into a world of sweets.  To his left there were chocolate double fudge brownies.  To his right were oozing cinnamon buns.  Above him were chunky apple crumbles.  Directly in front of him were strawberry cheesecakes of various sizes.  Below his feet was a combination of all the different sugary frosting you could imagine.  Oh, my god.  Am I going crazy? Where are all these pastries coming from?  They all look so good.  Somebody help me.

“Jeremy…” murmured a mysterious voice behind him.

Swinging his head side to side, Jeremy responded nervously, “Yes? Who’s there?”
            “Jeremy…” said the voice slightly louder.
            Jeremy then turned around 180 degrees hoping to identify the anonymous voice, but nothing was there.  What the fuck is going on?

“Jeremy!” exclaimed the voice, which was now omnipresent.

            “Wh-who are you?” whimpered Jeremy.
            “Are you serious, Jeremy?  I’ve been with you almost everyday.  Who do you think it is?” said the voice impatiently.
            Jeremey slowly opened his eyes.  “God?”

            “No stupid!  It’s fucking banana nut muffin, retard!” shouted the now visible muffin. 

            “Are you serious?  Muffins can’t talk,” questioned Jeremy.

            “Well obviously they can.  I don’t have much time; I have to get back to the muffin-nation before the cakes take over.  Jeremy, you need to listen and listen well.  There are tons of pastries out there.  They may seem sweet, tasty, irresistible, and all that bull crap, but you need to realize something.  Muffins are where it’s at and always will be!  Don’t let some random ass carrot cake sway your steady morning tradition,” advised the muffin.

            Ring, ring.  “Oh, there goes my banana phone.  I gotta go Jeremy.  Make the right decision!” added the muffin vanishing into thin air.
            What the fuck?  Just as the muffin vanished, the fattest piece of carrot cake appeared before him.

            “Hey there Jeremy.  How’s it going?  Did that old fart banana nut muffin try to tell you muffins are the bomb?” asked carrot cake.

            “Um, yeah I guess,” Jeremy said under his breath.
            “Man, he’s out of his mind.  Trust me Jeremy, you will like carrot cake better once you try me.  You will experience a euphoric bliss that you’ve never experienced before once you sink your teeth into my gooey frosting,” said carrot cake.  “Break out of your routine, do something different.  Doesn’t that sound refreshing?  Doesn’t it?”

            Terrified, Jeremy turned around and started sprinting.  “No, no, no.  I shouldn’t.  I have to stick to the routine.”

            “Where are you going, Jeremy?  Come back,” laughed carrot cake hysterically.

            I have to listen to banana nut muffin.  He has always been there for me.  Remember what banana nut muffin said.  Remember!  MUFFINS ARE WHERE IT’S AT.

            Sweat dripped down Jeremy’s face and drenched his shirt.
            “Jeremy, hurry up and choose what you want. There’s a line waiting for you,” the cashier said tapping Jeremy on the shoulder while the rest of the customers glared at him with frustration. 

            Snapping out of his daze, Jeremy wiped the sweat off his forehead and looked at the muffin in his hand.  “Actually.  I think I’ll just keep this banana nut muffin.  Sorry for the trouble.”

            Walking back to the couch, Jeremy took a bite of his muffin went on with his day.