Did I say I was taking a two week break? Whoops! I meant a month. My bad!
At any rate, I feel much better, despite the fact that I am now approximately 427 months pregnant and large enough that small objects in our house are starting to be sucked into my gravitational field and rotate around me like a mini solar system. The good news is that I only have about five weeks left to go.
The bad news is that I have about five weeks left to go. I wonder how soon I’ll feel like riding a horse again after I pop out the Squidgelet?
Anyways, moving on:
This morning I stopped by Starbucks on my way to work.
I know, I know. I hate the idea of Starbucks just as much as the rest of you.
It bugs me that they have stupid names for their sizes (Graaaande… Veeeeeenti… Whateeeever…) .
It annoys me that they’ve given their employees pretentious names like “barista” instead of “person standing behind the counter”.
Their coffee isn’t that great, they’re way overpriced, and every time I walk in there it makes me feel like I’m selling out.
On the other hand, getting a coffee at Starbucks also makes me absurdly happy. They have the world’s most delicious whipped cream, and while the actual coffee doesn’t taste that great, I love the flavors they offer, the familiar cups, and the old-timey jazz they pipe through the speakers. And I love their whipped cream. Did I mention the homemade whipped cream? Mmmm. Whipped cream. I’ve said it before: that whipped cream is addicting.
My name is Becky. I live in Orange County, I work in Newport Beach, and I like Starbucks coffee. I’m such a cliché.
During the winter Starbucks offers their seasonal specials. I always order their pumpkin spice latte, and over the years I’ve learned how to tweak it just right for my taste buds. I’ve spoken the order so many times that it rolls off my tongue like a script.
Me: “Good morning. I’d like to order a grande pumpkin spice latte with extra whipped cream. (Pause for them to write it down.) However, instead of putting the pumpkin spice powder on top, can you put the cinnamon dolce powder instead?”
Average Barista: “Sure, no problem. That’ll be [an exorbitant amount of money for one coffee].”
It’s usually a quick, painless, seamless transaction.
Not this morning.
This morning, I had the world’s dumbest person taking care of me today at Starbucks.
Me: “Good morning. I’d like to order a grande pumpkin spice latte with extra whipped cream. (Pause for her to write it down.) However, instead of putting the pumpkin spice powder on top, can you put the cinnamon dolce powder instead?”
Barista: “Wait. What?”
Me: I’d like to order a grande pumpkin spice latte with extra whipped cream. However, instead of putting the pumpkin spice powder on top, can you put the cinnamon dolce powder instead?”
Barista: “Did you say you wanted a cinnamon dolce latte?”
Me (realizing I needed to use MUCH smaller words): “No. I want a grande pumpkin spice latte.”
Me: “With extra whipped cream.”
Barista: “Would you like any whipped cream with your latte?”
Me (sighing inwardly): “Yes, please. Extra whipped cream.”
Me: “Now, you know how you put the pumpkin spice powder on top of the whipped cream?”
Me: “Instead of that, please put cinnamon dolce powder. I don’t like the spice powder.”
Barista. “Uh… okay.”
Me: “Thank you.”
Barista (hesitating): “Okay, so, uh… you just want an extra shot of dolce syrup with your latte? Is that it?”
Me: “NO. NO EXTRA SYRUP.”
Me: “THE POWDER. The pumpkin spice POWDER?”
Me: “I don’t like the taste. Please don’t put it on there. Please put the cinnamon dolce POWDER instead.”
Barista: “OOOOH! OH! I GET IT!”
Yeah. I don’t see nuclear physics in her future.