Fear and loathing in suburbia
What is the worst thing that could happen at Starbucks? I found out today. I was looking to make use of my Starbucks card (a much appreciated thank you gift from one of my co-workers), so we stopped by there on our way home from Beth’s haircut. Well unless Chicago is on the way from Seattle to Los Angeles, I guess Starbucks was not exactly on the way, but what the hell. I could use a little pick me up. We got there and I ordered my usual. “What exactly is your usual?” the cafe consultant asked. I always wanted to go somewhere and ask for the usual. Giving the low wage earner behind the counter a hard time was just a bonus.
It turns out revenge is sweet, even when it’s a Grande Cafe Vanilla Frappuccino. We ordered. We drank our coffee. We went home. Before I went to Starbucks, I was tired. After we arrived home, I was still tired.
And then it hit me.
I was still tired? Sweet mother caffeinated beverages, I still hadn’t been “picked up.” Even after slamming a Grande Cafe Vanilla Frappuccino? Did they hold the caffeine? Is this what they mean by “reaping what you sow?” For the love of Pete, why did I have to give the coffee attendant a hard time? Why Starbucks, Why hast thou forsaken me?
I woke with a start. It was all a dream. A terrible, terrible dream. From this time forth, I will always treat the good folks at Starbucks right. When you hold the tiller on the good ship Starbucks, you wield a great deal of power and you deserve your patron’s respect. With my hand over my heart, I pledge to be a good boy.