Starbucks for dummies (10/2008)

So, yesterday I went to Starbucks. I've been making venti Caramel Frappucinnos part of my daily breakfast for the past two mornings, and Monday wasn't going to be any different. Upon entering the downtown Starbucks, I was standing in line behind these two people. One was a very "stupid" looking young man (about my age) and the other was his mom. Now, I use the word "stupid" loosely, but have you ever seen a "stupid" looking person and thought "man, they sure look stupid"? Well, this was the case in which a person looked pretty stupid.

 So anyways, the barista begins to take their order. "What would you two like today?” she asked. "Oh, I'll have a... a... *squints hard to look at the menu* GRANDE cappa... cinno...” said the mom.”And what about you?" asked the barista to the son. "I'll have a... a... caramel... frappa... *squints in the same fashion as his mother* ... frappucinno." "And what size would you like?” asked the barista. "Um... GRANDE", said the stupid boy, and after paying for the drinks, went to the other side of the store with his mom to wait for them.

Now, the fact that he said "GRANDE" is key information, for it ties into the rest of the story pretty importantly: 

Now, it was my turn. "What would you like?” asked the barista. "I'd like a VENTI Caramel Frappucinno, please", said I. Upon adding that I'd like whipped cream and paying her the $4.30, I went to stand near the stupids. 

Upon making the mom's cappuccino, I noticed that the barista began to make my VENTI drink first, and the GRANDE one second. The first thing I thought in my head was, "She's going to put down MY drink, and he's going to take it". And WHY? Because he's stupid and doesn't remember what his own fucking drink was. 

The next thing I hear is, "VENTI Caramel Frappucinno", and before I can grab MY drink, Mr. Stupid Pants takes it, says "thanks", and proceeds to walk out of Starbucks with his mom.

What was I supposed to do? Was I supposed to tell him, "Hey, fucker. That's MY drink"? But I thought that if I did, he probably wouldn't understand, and who was I to teach him how to order a drink at Starbucks? It's not MY fault that he didn't learn that skill as a child. 

And on the other end of the spectrum I thought: Well, I could tell her that I ordered a VENTI and NOT a GRANDE and that this other dude took my drink, but that would be awkward and I wouldn't want to make the already busy barista make me another drink. 

But I paid 4 fucking 30!!! Wasn't I entitled to the drink that I ordered? What kind of world do we live in where a man cannot obtain his rightfully paid for drink? And then thoughts of the election, Sarah Palin, Barack Obama, high gas prices, consumerism, and this weird dream I had the other night in which I was pregnant popped into my head. 

Before I had a mental breakdown over some spilt caramel, the barista presented me with a GRANDE caramel frappucinno. I took it and was on my way. I felt like I was going to have a panic attack... over STARBUCKS! Was this a sign that I need to stop spending my money there? Or should I be more assertive? I don't know. All I do know is that there was someone else in Davis, CA enjoying a drink that I paid for.

It was all too much that I decided that I needed a cigarette. 

The End.