Christmas at Starbucks, year two

A post inspired by a comment Steve made at Starbucks this afternoon, although Steve is way too nice a person to have taken it to this level. And I bet he would not say "fuck". Ever.

I've dissed Starbucks before because they are teaching us that we deserve to have things exactly as we want them. I have gone so far as to finger them as the sole reason our kids grow up entitled, demanding an Xbox for Christmas, never checking the air pressure on their tires and believing that Miley Cyrus is talented.

But despite my pontificating, God help me, I love Starbucks. I want to live a Starbuck's life, in Starbuckistan, if you will. Perhaps you are familiar with its evil twin, Clusterfuckistan, where sewage comes out of your shower and nothing is made in a size larger than zero. Now, proving that there truly IS a silver lining to every clusterfuck, Starbuckistan appears on the horizon. A magical place where if you want 2/3 inch of foam on your nonfat, sugar-free pumpkin spice latte and they give you 1/3 inch of foam, not only do they cheerfully exchange it, they apologize. And they give you a coupon for a free coffee next time.

Yes, I know this is precisely the example I use when damning Starbucks - the theory being that we really shouldn't expect to get shit perfect in our lives because it leads to certain disappointment when we step  outside of Starbuckistan and results in futile hopes of an new recipe for Olestra that does not cause anal seepage, and Dick Cheney getting a soul.

Still, all contradiction aside, I am happy when I am in Starbucks.

I know, I'm complicated.

There is, however, a caste system in Starbuckistan that is troubling to a commune-longing egalitarian such as myself: The milk/sugar station. The judgement table.

The Starbucks milk/sugar station separates the fat slacker poseurs in Yoga pants (like me) from the people who make the most out of their lives for real. Or, as it plays out at the station, the Nonfat milk people from the Half and Half people. We all step up to the station as equals, in that everyone feels superior to the people with whipped cream in their cups. I mean, please, they aren't even trying. No one smiles at the whipped cream people.  They don't deserve our bonhomie. Oh sure, we toss them a perfunctory, benign hello because, after all, we are in Starbuckistan but we are secretly disdaining their blatant disregard for pretending to eat healthfully.

The rest of us self-respecting Starbuckistanians make a really big deal out of reaching for the nonfat milk, but then we do what must be done: sniff it, feign disgust that it's sour and - with a long suffering sigh - take the Half and Half just this once.

Or we make loud comments about how we are bringing the fatted coffee to a (fictional) co-worker. Who is dying from anorexia. And osteoporosis.

But even if we pass the fat milk test, there is the whole issue of sweetener. One packet is acceptable, although a black-coffee drinking woman is just plain sexy, am I right? Except for her breath. But if you are a two or three packet person, you best stay in the closet about it. Especially if you are male. A man who puts three packets of Splenda in his latte is just asking to be beat up in the parking lot. A man who puts in four AND uses Half and Half may as well get a vagina.

A Venti one.

 

Comments

[Madge]

As usual laughing my ass off (which would be a great thing). I don't do coffee ever but love the other chocolate goodies there.

[Lunaea]

Hey, if you want to know about caste systems, try being a TEA drinker at Starbucks. An iced tea drinker, at that. The baristas don't want to do ANYthing special for you. When I ask for mine without sweetener, they curl their lip and roll their eyes and put the sweetener in anyway. When I ask them meekly to shake the container for a few extra seconds so it really gets cold, they look at me as if I just asked them to shake it between their knees, like Jack Nicholson. It's enough to make a girl switch to coffee.

[michelle]

Since we are on the subject..on the occasion that I splurge and buy ice cream I force everyone on a diet and buy it in low cal/low fat ..last night Dave sets the container on the counter and levi points to the words and says 'what does that mean?'..dave responds "it means 1/2 fat". Levi's response...'no.no.no....don't give me any...I don't want to be half fat!' What throws me is that we don't use that F word in the house anyway, but sure made for a good laugh!

[Barbara]

" futile hope of a new recipe for Olestra that does not cause anal seepage, and Dick Cheney getting a soul."

This is your finest work yet. I bow to you.

[Nina Rosenfeld]

Did you know that baristas in a Chicago Starbucks organized with the IWW (International Workers of the World)? Fucking awesome.

In anticipation of moving to Starbucksistan, I'm learning their language. "Short" means small. "Venti" means big fucking cup of joe.

See you there pal.

David

[Amy]

"A man who puts three packets of Splenda in his latte is just asking to be beat up in the parking lot. A man who puts in four AND uses Half and Half may as well get a vagina.

A Venti one."

Abso-fucking-lutely brilliant. I am in awe."

[Shira]

If you want to feel good about yourself at a Starbucks, just go with me - I see no shame in ordering a Grande White Chocolate FULL FAT Mocha with Whip Cream, yes, please. And then I proudly march over to the table and ADD SUGAR. And all the MILFs giving me their simpering half-caff virgin-soy smiles can kiss my ass. You know, the one popping out of the back of my jeans that are held together with the rubber-band-through-the-button-hole trick.

[Diane Hulme]

I am in awe too, once I stopped laughing. You really are something! Brilliant, yes, that's the word for you my friend.

[Janet]

"We all step up to the station as equals, in that everyone feels superior to the people with whipped cream in their cups."

Truer words have NEVER been spoken!