So, you’ve heard of this place, huh?
Today, for whatever reason, I woke up with one of those WTF-did-a-bookcase-fall-on-my-head-last-night headaches. Combined with the fact that I’m not a morning person anyway, I was particularly grouchy by the time left the house. Since I was, of course, late, I didn’t have time to swing by the new Starbucks near my house, although on the ride in it occurred to me that a little caffeine may be just what the doctor ordered. I decided to drive fast and make up a little time, whereby freeing me up to stop at the one near my office. You know the one.
By the time I got there, I could barely see, so the order of the day was coffee, black, stat! When I went inside, there were only two people in line in front of me, so I figured it would be quick. Today though, the karma police were about to throw me in jail.
The first person in line, the one at the register, was a little old lady, probably seventy-five years old, and on any other day, probably the sweetest little thing you would ever want to sit and chat with over coffee.Today, however, I wasn’t having any of it. She was speaking to the tattooed/pierced/goateed barista dude that “Well, you know, I’ve heard of this place. I thought I’d come in and try it. You’re never too old to try new things! Can you explain to me what those are?” She pointed to the menu.
Too-cool-for-school barista boy must have thought she reminded him of her grandmother or something, because he melted. In his softest, lispiest voice, he went through and explained to her what every one of the variations of coffee drink are.
“Sure thing. This one here is a latte, lahhh-tay, and is mostly steamed milk with espresso in it. Below that is cappuccino, cap-AH-cheeee-no…”
“Cap-AH-cheeee-no? I heard someone order that on television. I thought it was a new wine.”
“Really? I guess it could be a wine, it sounds exotic like that - cap-AH-cheeee-no…”
The guy directly in front of me took the extra time to flirt with one of the employees, who just so happened to be in his Art History class at ASU.
“Hey, you’re in my art class, aren’t you? Wow, that class is intense.”
“Oh, hi, I am! I know, like, when do we go to the place where the pictures are?”
My right eye begins to twitch. Fortunately I’m still wearing my sunglasses so no one can see my Bill the Cat expression.
“Yeah. We don’t even get to go to the museum until almost Thanksgiving. Sucks hard.”
“Fer real. I didn’t think we’d be reading all these books. It’s like, really hard.”
“Yeah, it’s intense.”
You opened with that one, cowboy. Branch out. Considering school started about two weeks ago, you two are in for a world of hurt if the first week of Art History 101 gives you the brain pain. Hopefully neither of you are art majors.
By now, I’m seriously considering getting out of line, just to make sure that when my aneurysm goes, I’m not in the same room with the slowest bunch of humans on the planet. At least I wouldn’t get fired for being insanely late on top of this headache. Then, by some sick cosmic joke, I hear a voice come from behind the pastry case:
“Hi, I can help you here. What can I get you?”
I cringe. It’s her. The girl with the strange infatuation with my coffee cup, which I of course have in my hand. Where does she come from when she does that? I’ve been here for ten minutes and she was never even in the room. Maybe there’s a trap door under the sandwich display. As I raise it above the counter, it clears the box of napkins, and her eyes light up like it’s Christmas:
“OOoooohhHHHh! That’s my favorite cup evar!!!”
“Um, hi, yeah. Me again. Uh, coffee, and a muffin. Thanks.”
After two more minutes of painful banter, I’m able to pay for my coffee and bolt. I head over to the fixin’s counter to grab some napkins, and while I’m standing there, the sweet old lady wanders up to me and asks me to pass her the cream. I hand her the fourteen-pound stainless steel pitcher that they use for creamer, fully expecting her to snap in half.
“Thank you, young man. You know, I’ve heard about this place. You’re never too old to try new things…”
Thankfully, she couldn’t see the tears behind my sunglasses.
September 6th, 2007 at 12:30 pm
Ah, let me tell you the story about the bastard with the bluetooth (everyone knows one of those) couple of weeks ago. I was at my local SBux and this dude came in with a 3-4 year old kid. One of those annoying guys who talks to everyone as if he’s at a teleconference and vocalizes every thought that pops up in his head.
While he’s talking to his kid about the proper uses of a straw so everyone in the store could hear, he talked on the phone with someone about the evolution of media content.
Ay, but that’s not where it ends. When I went up to get my cup of refill, I realized he made it at the counter before me and was already on the phone with his wife (via bluetooth, of course). He proceeded to stand there and read out all the items inside the display to his wife and kept asking, “You sure you don’t want this? How about that?” “Are you positive, honey?”
I wish I wore glasses like you that day, JD.
September 6th, 2007 at 12:31 pm
Ugh…I meant “already on the phone with his wife…”
September 6th, 2007 at 12:35 pm
Ha ha…and I got your back.
September 6th, 2007 at 3:00 pm
Yet again, life’s little details manage to piss off the best of us.
“The place with the pictures”
Priceless.
That is some straight Miss Teen South Carolina logic.
September 7th, 2007 at 2:24 am
In his softest, lispiest voice - wow, you were not feeling it for sure! I enjoyed reading this, you are funny - thanks for sharing! Headache betta?
September 7th, 2007 at 7:06 am
Yeah, all better now. Yesterday was just one of those days.
Although you know those dream sequences in movies or on TV, when the person actually does what they feel like but then snap out of it and they’re actually just standing there? In my mind, I went ninja on that place, using my metal coffee cup as a weapon. It wasn’t pretty, but it was satisfying. And then I helped myself to the pastry case.
September 7th, 2007 at 12:14 pm
You’re making me very, very glad that I use my soft, lispy (I loved that too, by the way) French press here in the office. I can’t imagine dealing with these people before the first cup. Heck, I go out of my way to avoid cow-irkers until until I’ve had my first.
Bill the Cat for president! Ack.
September 8th, 2007 at 12:17 pm
I try to avoid my coworkers before I’ve had my coffee too, but since I get in ninety minutes before they do, it isn’t hard. The difficult part is avoiding the rest of the world in that time frame too.
September 10th, 2007 at 7:04 am
I’ve actually stepped away from CharBucks and going to McDonald’s for coffee now. Much faster….
Honestly it doesn’t taste any worse.
If I want good coffee I order it myself from one of the small roasters I know and use a French Press at home.
September 10th, 2007 at 8:07 am
I don’t mind McDonald’s coffee…and it just won that taste test over Starbucks, too. My thing is, I know their coffee tastes good, so does their food. It’s how they get it to taste good that unnerves me.
September 10th, 2007 at 8:46 am
I need to try out their coffee, I’ve been hearing good things about it for a while now. I haven’t gone there in ages simply because it’s a guaranteed way to pack on the pounds. (That and the ingredients are suspect, as you mentioned.) Though I guess it wouldn’t hurt to have one double cheeseburger… Mmm… tasty synthetic cheese on wafer thing patties…
Speaking of burgers, anybody tried Backyard Burger? My wife, who generally dislikes fast food, loves ‘em.
September 10th, 2007 at 8:51 am
McDonald’s Breakfast Menu is what I find the most dangerous. Sausage Egg & Cheese McMuffin is one of my biggest weaknesses. Oooooo and those bastards have to ask if I want a Cinamelt before I have a coffee and can’t think clearly yet.