label/John

The other night, I went to have drinks with Kristin, her lovely blogless cousin, and Christy to a bar near my house. It’s the type of place that when you come in you immediately realize that you are interrupting the waitress with your unglamouressness and desire to sit with friends and have a drink and relax and enjoy yourself, because obviously, she, the waitress, is super talented and gorgeous and young and “what can I get you?” And then if you ask for a some water along with your drink, she won’t bring it, because she has two hands only and the extra trip is exhausting, so when you go up to the bar and ask for the water please, you are really parched, she’ll nod dismissively and then bring exactly one glass for you, so that they people sitting with you can get hydrated by association.

But I get it. Waitresses in NYC are different from you and me. They’re all talented, struggling artists, gorgeous, whatever. If you don’t like attitude, go to the Olive Garden. When you’re there, you’re family, which as an aside, always seemed more like an ominous warning than a enticing welcome.

I do, however, draw the line at Starbucks. I absolutely fucking refuse to get attitude from a Starbucks person. Which is really bad news for me, because that’s exactly what I’ve been getting.

First, I order my signature coffee, a half-caf (half decaf, half regular) and then I watch them make it. Often they give me all caffeinated, which is not what I want and which can have a very bad effect on everyone who will be IN MY WAY FOR THE NEXT TWO HOPURS. So, I say, “Half DECAF, please” and wordlessly, they fix the order. No “I’m sorry!” no “I apologize” no “I am not worthy to serve you coffee, thank you for gracing our Starbucks with your loveliness”. And then, when I thank them, I get either nothing (see rant immediately above) or a “you’re welcome“.

Second, I’m not a smiley person myself, but I think if you work at Starbucks, you should spend a few seconds every morning adjusting to your facial expression from “smell sour shit on upper lip” to “fit for human interaction.”

Third, when I get my coffee, they put it right by the register, so that I have to boardinghouse reach (expression courtesy of John) all the way across to retrieve it. I’m guessing that they do this because they want me to do some calisthenics every morning, but it’s fucking annoying.

By the way, there are wonderful Starbucks employees who have been helpful, efficient and polite. I love them. But they make for dull blog posts.

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