i enjoy coffee as much as the next girl. i have my beans delivered to my house, even. but i keep forgetting to grind those beans.
so for the last two months or so, i've been stopping by my neighborhood Starbucks for a medium vanilla latte. Every single morning. Same time. The same people wait on me. Every single day for eight weeks.
And every single day, they ask me what I'm drinking. Every day.
Here's the thing is that it might be nice if they just tried to guess. Even if they were wrong. It might be nice.
Here's the other thing is that every single day I bring in my own cup: a bright orange cup with a sticker of a horse on it. There's a fucking horse sticker on my cup. And nobody notices that I come every day.
It's not like they're completely aloof. This morning, the younger girl barista told me I looked like a movie star in my sunglasses. On Friday, the older lady barista told me she liked my hair in a ponytail and asked me if I was ready for spring. Christ, that same lady once asked me if I knew who won the Frontier Airlines Denver's Favorite Animal contest. "Ummmm, no..." I replied slowly. The customer behind me thought it might have been a penguin.
Every time I have to remind them at the register that it's a personal cup and I get a ten cents discount (whoo!). Today, the young girl barista was ringing me up and, as she rang up my order, I remind her that it was my own cup.
Personal cup, you mean?"
"Yes," I reply, "every single day."
"Oh, good for you!" she offers in mock enthusiasm.
Last week, the flamboyantly-friendly guy barista, after I paid, commanded for me to hold on a minute. He then reached into his tip canister, grabbed a dime, and exclaimed, "Oops! I forgot to give you your personal mug discount,"as he dropped the dime into my hand.
I think this began to officially annoy me on Thursday, after I went to my local hipster pizza place for the third time in two weeks. I walked in and, without even looking up, the guy behind the counter said, "Greek salad, right?" Three fucking visits and they know why I'm there. Because it's their job. And they didn't even try to upsell me, like they do every single morning at Starbucks. I don't want your crappy pastries, Starbucks. I don't even want your crappy coffee, it's just on the way and I keep forgetting to grind my beans. And when I get to the counter, and you say to me, "any pastries today?" and I say, "no thanks," do not accuse me with, "are you sure? I saw you looking in that pastry case." Yeah I was looking in your pastry case. What else am I going to look at while I stand in line? Shall I whip out my phone with defiant self-importance, confident that everybody in the entire store wants to hear my business at 7:30 in the morning (loudly, at that)?
I'm going to go grind me some coffee.
...although the masochist in me wants to go back to Starbucks for as long as it takes for them to remember my drink order. Or, at the very least, let me know that they know that I'm there every morning. I'm a regular, dammit! Notice me.
Music for morning people.mp3 Kid Koala
Fucking alone.mp3 Iggy Pop