Monday, August 11, 2008

Where everybody knows your name...

I go to the same Starbucks every Monday and Tuesday and I order the same drink with the same baristas.

On Wednesday through Friday, given timing and whether or not I'm limping or hobbling with crutches, I go to the same (but different from Mondays & Tuesdays) Starbucks and I order the same drink with the same baristas.

I'm always polite. I say, "Good morning! I'll have an iced grande nonfat Vanilla Latte." And I even say it the way they like it to be said. I don't say, "I want me a lattee... with pumps of vanilla... iced... um, medium... with skim milk." I am straight to the point. I talk in Starbucks lingo. I also leave a tip. OK I lied. If I pay with cash I do. Sometimes whole dollars. Cause I'm such a nice person.

Yet they don't know me. All I want is to look at them, and they look at me, and they just know. They yell, "GET THIS GIRL HER DAMN DRINK!" and throw cups at the barista making the coffee. And in an ideal world, this barista would be crying. Crying and working. Tears just missing the coffee cups - muttering "I can't do this anymore..." under their breath. But, in all of his (or her) misery, he (or she) makes me the perfect cup of coffee. It doesn't taste like burnt. Or mascara-tinted tears.

That'd be great.

On a side note, I've seen a few people in the service industry who have been crying and upset, and it's noticeable and incredibly awkward. I always feel bad for them. Like, I know their pain. I've been there. In general, I'm a strong "don't fuck with me" person when working or managing, but sometimes you're just in over your head. But seriously, I feel bad, but get me the glass of wine I ordered. I don't care if you cry while you do it, just GET ME IT!

Anyways, how is it that bartenders know me and what I like to drink? They see just as many regulars. Yet, the bartenders who know me are the sweetest people ever... they ice my foot when it's sprained and I'm crying. They let me control the music playing in the bar. They give me free drinks, or sit with me during a break. And sometimes they replace my alcoholic beverages with water when they think I've drank too much. (Embarassing, huh?)

Some day... every Starbucks barista will know who I am and what I want as soon as I enter their store! (Although, it will probably be because I work with them....)

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