More on the Coffee you Hate to Love

My love-hate relationship with Starbucks just escalated to borderline destructive…. Yesterday morning I entered a Starbucks directly across the street from the South Tower at Columbus Circle. I was greeted by an employee with a headset who took my order, barked into her headset alla taco bell drive thru style, handed me my drink card and my coffee was ready for me by the time I approached the counter. Not bad. Brilliant in fact, ‘well played’ I thought to myself…

This morning, when I arrived for my coffee, the line was literally outside of the store, so I had to wait with the lady who asks for your spare change for the homeless. Now, I don’t give spare change away to anyone, so when I ignored her, amongst her ramblings of statistics, she managed to get in a “Always concerned with yourselves…” to which point I looked at her, yanked my headphones out of my ears and asked, “Really?” because really, standing here in my Target flip flops, in desperate need of a legitimate haircut, amongst the Coach bag clutching mani-pedi robots, I was hardly the enemy.

So yes, when I finally entered the house of coffee, the headphone chick took my order, but didn’t give me my drink card. I watched as a light went off in her little head as she counted (with fingers) how many people in that line just wanted regular coffee, and took off like a flash. A barista to save the day!! And here I thought, for like the MILLIONTH time, that Starbucks should really think about having a specific line for fru-fru drinks, and an express line for people who just want COFFEE. No “grande soy half caf cinnamon dolce latte, no whip, heated to 125 degrees- in a venti cup….” I have nothing but hatred for you bobbleheaded little androids!!

And after all of the line shenanigans, I still had to wait over in that side section as I watched the whole team of baristas with headsets maneuver like little worker bees, and there was something sooo disturbing about it.

Please indulge me: As I stood there, again wearing the Target flip flops, waiting for my oh so difficult to procure medium cup of black cofee, a woman approached the counter and ordered a “half caf soy latte”- the register attendee repeated back “half caf soy latte”-the woman in head set “half caf soy latte”-barista in back “half caf soy latte”, who after making the half caf soy latte hands the beverage back to the headset woman who repeated “half caf soy latte”, as she handed the beverage back to the register guy who then reiterates that her beverage is indeed a “half caf soy latte”. I watched this exchange for five minutes this morning as I waited for my grande cup of black coffee, and you have no idea how tempting it was for me to just run behind the counter, grab a medium cup, pull the freaking nozzle and pour my fucking cup of coffee…It was dark… and way darker than this Pike’s Roast blend shit they’re ladling out like yesterdays oatmeal to orphans.

2 responses to “More on the Coffee you Hate to Love

  1. Ahh… rantalicious! I’m trying to decode your typefaces. Your italics denote emphasis, your bolds seem to imply anger, your bold italics emphatic anger, and your CAPITALIZED BOLDS appear to be shouted anger. I’m also digging on your hatred. When we first met you wouldn’t allow yourself to say the word ‘hate’. I’d like to think it is my influence – it could very well also be NYC’s influence – but more likely it is the paragraphical frü-frü crew (they’re not really people, they don’t feel pain like we feel pain).

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