Time for work…

While working for Starbucks, I get to see the sickening display of addictive behavior in humanity. People are very, very, peculiar about their coffee. Since I work at a Starbucks in Douglasville, I have people who come in and say, “I ain’t never tried coffee from here before. Gimme a frappacini (rhymes with Houdini). Uh, mocha. Uh, grande (rhymes with land).” Those people are fun. But then I have the people who come in and say, “I need a Venti, six shot, vanilla, breve, mocha please, and could you add toffenut and caramel syrup to that whip cream? Oh yeah, and make sure you stir it really well! You do know what breve is don’t you?!” Those people, the ones who are manic about their drinks, the ones who come in almost every day, the ones who drink enough expresso and sugar to give them a corinary bypass…those people are hard to deal with. They eye you with the evil eye while you are making their drink, monitoring how much milk, how much syrup, how much expresso you are putting in, as if you, as a barista, had decided to single-handedly take down the Starbucks empire by steaming their milk two degrees off standard, thereby forcing them into a siezure because the milk has scalded their throat, and further forcing them into making a complaint loud enough for Seattle to hear, and then, well, the end of the world is nigh. Because Starbucks couldn’t have a stain like that on their record. And if Starbucks closes down, their will be those to start a revolution. Especially during the holidays, when they’re already cranky because they couldn’t find that last tickle-me-elmo doll (or whatever the new kids toy craze is). Sigh, and sigh again. I LOVE WORK!!! I must depart now. My green apron awaits me.

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