This cool and foggy morning, I could not resist the urge to pull into the Starbucks that is so conveniently located near my place of work. Usually there is a long line of people ordering their extra-soy-vanilla-decaf-triple-fat-free-cream-wait-I-changed-my-mind-make-that-a-tall pseudo-coffees, which leads to an average wait time of 5-6 minutes to get my plain venti--no room for cream, thanks--Kenya blend. Today, however, I was blessed: only two people stood in line fidgeting with their cell phones. This ought to be a breeze. Now, the second person in line is a tall, well groomed and neatly dressed individual. Probably around thirty years of age, giving off that air of "I'm a really important guy, but I'm also really cool and fun, by the way, did I mention I am really important? And cool. Fun, too." You know the kind: you just want to strangle them at sight. Out of nowhere, what is essentially a shorter and pudgier clone of this individual joins him in line. I am about to make mention of this, but I figure that hey, they are probably paying together or something, no big deal. Besides, it is early in the morning and I really need a dose of caffeine before I can get pissed at anything. First person in line finally figures out how to pay for her $8 specialty beverage--I love how some people are completely caught off guard when asked for payment, as if they had never expected it standing at a cash register purchasing something--and gets out of the way. Tall guy walks up to the register, looks around a bit, and goes "I suppose I will have a large...huhuh... how can you have a large without a medium? Isn't that pretty crazy, hahahaha." Silence. The cashier looks a little awkward and says, "Uh...sir... we don't actually have anything called large or medium here." The guy, obviously mortified at his highly original joke crashing and burning in this fashion, laughs a bit. "Well, uh, what do you have?" Cashier kindly points over to the three cup sizes lined up right there, next to the register. "We have these: tall, grande, venti. See?" The guy is baffled. It is as if his entire existence revolves around the one joke regarding fast food cup sizes. He has nothing now; his entire repertoir is rendered worthless in an instant by a $6/hr Starbucks cashier. More silence. "Uh... I suppose I will have one of the 'tall' ones...no, wait, let me get a 'grande' of...uhhh..." His eyes scan the board behind the cashier wildly; at this point I am not entirely certain what his plan was. Did he expect his stellar joke to bring down the house, then just walk out of there with a big grin while people slap his back and yell "Oh MAN, that was a good one!"--I have no idea. Whatever it was, he certainly was not prepared to actually _order_ anything. Finally he blurts out "vanilla latte! And uh, Bob, did you want to order too?" Obviously referring to short-and-pudgy standing next to him. "Yeah, I guess I will have a..uh...coffee then." Cashier patiently-bless her heart--asks "just a regular coffee, sir? What size?" "Large." He is given a 'grande' cup without any further explanation of their naming conventions. Having placed their order, tall guy is ready to pay. He even has a Starbucks gift card! As he hands it over to the cashier, I am sure that this torture is about to end and I can finally get out of there with my delicious brew. Oh no, it was not to be. As the cashier swipes the card, tall guy goes "wait!" and whips out a Visa. "Uh, sir, do you want to pay with that instead?" "Well, put half on it." "Oooooookay." She starts the transaction over, and is about to punch the final button when there's another "wait!" followed by "just put it all on the card." "So you don't want to use the gift card at all, sir?" "No, just the other card." Finally, the transaction is completed. This entire time I have felt the rage slowly building within me. As the two guys walk out the door with their cups, I lean over the counter and rip a giant cheese danish from behind the plexiglass. Time slows to a crawl. I walk over towards the entrance and kick the door open, shattering the safety glass into tiny beads with my right foot. The tall guy turns around, and now there is fear in his eyes. His partner takes off running, not turning around once, as I bludgeon tall funny guy to death with the giant cheese danish. Satisfied that he will never again hold up a line of people waiting to get their morning brew, I rush to my car and take off as I hear police sirens approaching. I'm out of there in an instant, hoping nobody saw my license plate. And I never got any god damn coffee.
Sure. I also brutally murdered a guy with a piece of cream cheese danish. It's all true. :naughty: PS: please don't turn me in.
I had a very similar experience a couple months ago involving the business woman w/ cell phone and Hillary hairdo... I ended up shotgunning her w/ the banana cran nut muffins... hurt so good!
hahaha.. I knew Starbucks was evil. Are you sure you didn't just gaze upon the wallpaper to long and snapped into a psychedelic rage. hnoes: Still reminded me of these..old, but yet still amusing... oh, and turn down the volume if you're at work. http://www.illwillpress.com/sml.html http://www.illwillpress.com/coffeehouse.html