I was headed towards Union Square to shop for a birthday gift for my mother. Shopping, unfortunately, has never been my forté. My mother taught me well how to overcome so many of life’s little obstacles; but shopping simply wasn’t something I could master. I just didn’t have it in me. And several stores later, I found myself as empty handed as when I had begun. Yes, four hours and I couldn’t find a single thing to buy her. (Yet, put me in front of a New York Times crossword puzzle and just watch me go. And in pen to boot!)
I was frustrated. I was tired. And I was ready to throw in the towel and order the first thing on FTD.com that cost under $50. To hell with originality. Anyway, she’s my mom; I’m sure she’d understand, I figured. Besides, it’s the thought that counts, right? (The thought that ran through my mind, however, was the guilt my mother would lay on me when she received said bouquet. I was certain my brothers and sisters would come up with something far superior. Fuckers.)
I decided to give it another shot. But I’d need a pick-me-up if I was going to make it through one more gift warehouse, or clothes shop, or Virgin Megastore. (Fine, that last one was for me, but I deserved something for my troubles.) What I needed was a cup of coffee.
I didn’t have far to look. There was a Starbucks not ten feet from where I was standing. (Surprise, surprise.) Now, I’m no fan of Starbucks, except that, at the very least, I’m glad that I never have to search very far for that life sustaining fluid: my good friend, Joe. Starbucks, in my humble opinion, is crap. Bitter, watery, crap. Crappy Joe. (Yes, I’m a fair weather friend. So sue me.) In any case, if I was going to find that elusive birthday gift, it was either get perked up at Starbucks or settle on the FTD® Birthday Party® Bouquet; and the latter was sure to put me in the doghouse with my usually adoring mother.
I eagerly ordered my super-huge 20-ounce Venti Arabian Mocha Java. (Venti, apparently, means 20 in Italian; how smart the good people at Starbucks are!) Smoother and richer than most of the other coffee selections they offer, but still watery crap, just the same. Fine, I too was bitter by that point, but shopping for a parent is a high stress activity. After all, she gave me the gift of life, the least I could do was come up with a suitable present.
I drank my cup of java and chowed down on a surprisingly tasty blueberry muffin. And then I was off and running again; just knowing that the perfect gift was somewhere close by and waiting for me to buy it. I tore down the sidewalk and anxiously scanned each passing window display. “Call to me, oh perfect gift. Call to me,” I intoned, just barely under my breath. Downtown is just full of people talking to themselves, so my mantra didn’t even merit a second glance from any of the fellow shoppers that passed by.
But that’s when I got suddenly sidetracked. Tongue-twisted is more like it: I was Starbucks suddenly sidetracked. For there, not fifty feet from where I had just emerged, was another Starbucks. I did a double take to make sure I hadn’t somehow been walking in circles. (A hard feat, mind you, since I was going in a straight line at the time.) But no, I wasn’t mistaken; there was another identical location within eyeshot.
How strange, I thought. How unnecessary, I added. But c’est la vie. Who am I to pass judgment? I’m sure that extra fifty feet was simply too far out of range for a lot of people to muster. Or maybe one was there for anyone that needed a second cup a short while after the first.
Oh well. I moved on and turned the corner, still furiously window-shopping for that perfect gift (under $50). But then, lo and behold, what should I come across, but another Starbucks.
Something wasn’t right. How could this be? What could be the rationale for three Starbucks positioned so close to each other? I decided to hop into this third location and do some investigating. Luckily, this was more of a sit down café than the other two and they even provided a couple of computers for their clientele. Not too surprisingly, the homepage on the vacant computer I sat down to was all ready set on the Starbucks website. (Does their genius have no end?)
I typed in my current location to see how many storefronts there were within a fifty-mile radius. There were 365. 365! One for each day of the year. Mere coincidence? Or was there something more insidious going on? In case there was, I figured I’d better find out. As fate would have it, I was, at the time, out of work. (Which explains the $50 gift limit.) And they were hiring. Maybe some undercover investigation was needed. (Besides, at the exorbitant prices they charge for a 20-ounce cup of coffee, I could certainly use the freebies.)
I was hired on the spot. Yippy for that college education. (Thanks again, mom.) They’d put me to work the very next day. With 365 Bay Area locations, I wasn’t surprised. They were probably desperate for qualified workers. Though I seriously doubted there were that many qualifications to begin with, other than the willingness to work at minimum wage and maximum customer obnoxiousness.
I went home that night and pondered my newly found calling. (Forgetting, for the time being, that my mother’s birthday was a scant three days away and I still had no present.) Something about that 365 wasn’t sitting well with me. Again, I pulled up the locations, this time scanning the map that was provided. The pattern seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place it. I went to bed and dreamed of Juan Valdez and his trusty mule. Not exactly a happy dream since they kept trying to force me to drink one cup of coffee after the other. I awoke with a start. Even in my dreams, caffeine has a jolting effect.
Unable to go back to sleep, I got up and fixed myself a warm cup of milk; which I drank as I stared out my kitchen window. It was a beautiful starry night and I scanned the heavens and tried to think drowsy thoughts. And that’s when it him me. Stars. Starbucks. The map. The relationship of 365 in our own solar system. Why hadn’t I seen it sooner? Finally, after all this time, my minor in Astronomy could have some practical purpose. (No, mom wasn’t too keen on that choice either.)
I raced towards my computer and printed the map of all 365 locations. Then I opened my Star Atlas and began my hunt. Sure enough, there was a match towards the middle of one of the galaxies I scanned: Centaurus A.
Centaurus A is a powerful radio galaxy located some 13 million light years away toward the constellation Centaurus. Radio galaxies are usually giant elliptical galaxies that have been disrupted by recent collisions with smaller companion galaxies. The very center of Centaurus A harbors a massive black hole, which fuels powerful jets of material that are thrown out of the nucleus at speeds of up to 1% the speed of light. These jets produce great quantities of radio and X-ray emission.
Fascinating, but what did it mean? Certainly, there couldn’t be a coincidence between the local Starbuck’s map and this star map, could there be? But what was the tie in? I’d have to be extra observant on the job tomorrow, I thought. Maybe then there’d be a clue to all of this. Hopefully, I was wrong to worry. Still, this was Starbucks we’re talking about. Anything was possible.
