Ah Bugger

The vapid utterings of a neurotic mind.

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I ain't too proud to bug.

Friday, September 29, 2006

My fantasy experience at Starbucks

I know that some of you think I am kidding when you read my drink order from Starbucks, but those of you who know me well (er.. Marci), know that I am not embellishing. Not even a little bit.

This is how my trips to the Barista/drink-order-taker usually go:

I walk up to the counter fiddling with the money in my hand. I like paying with a credit card, too because you don’t have to sign anything. That would be a great place to use a stolen credit card. I’m just sayin’. It’s hard for me to decide what I would like. There are far too many choices and I think I might just like everything. And what if I order the wrong beverage? Like say I ordered a mocha and it turns out, after I have tasted the aforementioned mocha, what I really wanted was a latte?
Once I have determined the beverage of my choice, I pick all of my modifications and with a slightly embarrassed look, try to relay them to the Barista/drink-order-taker. I am embarrassed because I know that I am out of control. Plus, it holds up the line and the Starbucks employees get frazzled. But that’s part of the fun. You know my typical order, so I won’t repeat it again. I then go hide in the front or the back of the store, depending on my Starbucks locale, and wait for them to attempt to announce my drink. Then I run for the beverage and leave.

Here is my dream experience at Starbucks:

I walk up to the counter with my head held high and look the Barista/drink-order-taker straight in the eye with confidence and begin the long sordid explanation of my beverage of choice.
“I would like a short, organic soy, no foam, no whipped, half-caf, extra shot, extra hot latte with ½ pump mocha, teeny squeeze of caramel sauce, and just the essence of vanilla. Oh, and double cup it. I ain’t out to save the world, and I like reading “The Way I See It” off the sides of the cups. Please make sure that the two cups are different.”
Then I would pay and scurry off to look at the items for sale that always intrigue me but never enough to actually buy, and wait for my beverage to be called out.
“DOUBLE CUPPED, SHORT, ORGANIC SOY, NO FOAM, NO WHIPPED, HALF-CAF, EXTRA SHOT, EXTRA HOT LATTE WITH ½ PUMP MOCHA, TEENY SQUEEZE OF CARAMEL SAUCE, AND JUST THE ESSENCE OF VANILLA.”
I push my way through the crowd that built up because of my labor intensive order to claim a wee cup with more writing on the side than a Manhattan bus while screaming “Hands off my drink!” And then I would turn around and run into the Dr. McSteamy from Gray's Anatomy, who would just happen to be in jeans and no shirt. He would say, "That's what I was going to order!" and whisk me away.

This is why Starbucks in Chicago is smart. They get your name and holler it out when your drink is ready. (Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf does this, too.)

3 Comments:

Blogger Sweet said...

McDreamy with no shirt on at a coffee shop? Hmmm...I really need to witness you ordering your java sometime.

9/29/2006 01:43:00 PM  
Blogger Law-Rah said...

Gosh, Sweet, McDreamy is so last season. It's McSteamy!!!! (although I think he should be in a towel and not jeans.)

9/29/2006 03:55:00 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

The fall of Western Civilization hs begun... and at a Starbucks of all places!

10/02/2006 01:01:00 PM  

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