It’s time to admit it- we as a society judge people based on their Starbucks orders.
- Strawberries-and-Creme-Frappuccino-With-Extra-Whipped-Cream: If you’re over 14, don’t even try to order this baby without getting a few stares. It’s pink and fluffy…there is no excuse.
- Tea of any kind: WARNING: YOU ARE CLASSY and someone who doesn’t need any extra caffeine because you’re considering the world’s biggest problems over this mellow cup.
- Caramel Macchiato: Okay, okay, Sparky, did you have no originality? Everyone and their mom orders this.
- Hot Chocolate: Are you kidding me? You held up the line for a sugar fix? We coffee elite are rolling our eyes in unison.
And of course, there’s the elusive BLACK COFFEE. BC drinkers are the hardest to pin down. What’s their motive? Are they trying to seem better than everyone else by insisting that they don’t need sugar and cream? Are they an adult with no need for excitement? Do they have taste buds?!?!
BC is a mixed message, but, giftcard in hand, I took the plunge.
Today; Starbucks; Approx 3:13 PM
Sauntering up to the cash register amidst a sea of Venti Mochas and Chocolate-syrup-based concoctions, I set out to order the most complex drink I’d ever encountered.
"Tall black coffee."
I’ll admit, I caved and got some sugar added, but I confidently said the order and instantly felt more refined. Staring out at my caffeinated peers, the effects of my soon-to-be-had drink started instantly. Look at these brainwashed consumers! Paying triple for frills and colors that I don’t need! I’m drinking the truth! I’m holding my cup up as an ambassador to living simply!
The barista who took my order approaches the pickup area.
"A tall bold?!"
I scanned the rest of the sea of patrons. Who is ordering styles of fonts in here?
"Did you have the bold?"
Suddenly the barista points to me. I walk over, high on my cloud of feeling black-coffee-betterness, smile his direction slyly and say,
"Oh no, I had the tall coffee of the day."
He rolls his eyes and then I feel it…the better-than-thou coffee tables have turned.
"Yes, this is the coffee of the day," he replies. "It's bold."
I stagger out an,
and hang my head as I exit quickly.
Sleeved-drink in hand, I turn back to face that green and black logo and realize that there’s no point in this coffee competition. As soon as I learn how to order something supposedly better than the rest, I’m knocked down again by the voice of reason, or this time, by the voice of a lanky blond employee who had no merriment for my mistaken order.
But I’ll be back, Starby’s. I’ll be back with a vengeance…and probably with a silly order and extra whipped cream, cause that stuff is darn good.