Friggin' Starbucks

Starbucks.

I hate 'em. I never go in 'em

Except for tonight. Yeah I went in... and it was my decision too.

Before the wife and I even stepped foot inside, we spied a driverless van idling in a lane of traffic about ten feet from a dozen parking spaces.

Where was the driver? In Starbucks getting a giganto mocha-whatsis with a huge blob of whipped cream on top. It figures. But don't worry, she left her idling vehicle safely in the hands of her nine year old daughter who – having caught site of my wife and I scowling at the van, wisely locked the doors. It's a pity the mother wasn't as bright. The kid looked terrified.

We approached the door and it was shortly before nine pm. I wanted to see what time they closed.. the sign said:

Monday 6:30am -

Great... what the hell does that mean.

We pressed onward.

The Menu Board.

I felt like iced tea. I saw something called Shaken Iced Tea Lemonade. I asked the girl behind the counter (no... I am not going to use the Starbucks term for counterperson) for a medium Shaken Iced Tea Lemonade (no... I am not going to use their ridiculous names for small, medium or large either). She looked at me as if I had asked for a steaming pile of crap on a Ritz™ cracker. Then I got confused because I thought maybe Shaken Iced Tea and Lemonade were two different items. But they couldn't be. Shaken Iced Tea was listed on one line by itself and Shaken Iced Tea Lemonade on another. I WAS right.

I guess she realized it too, because she then asked me what size I wanted (aw for the love of... I am not using those stupid ass made up names for small, medium and large.) Medium! Then she asks me if I want it made with black tea. Just make my fuckin' iced tea. Lemonade... Iced Tea Lemonade. Whatever the hell it's called!

She trundles off to make it and doesn't bother asking what my wife wants. Then some dude shows up at the register and the girl tells him to ring up an Iced Tea.

"What size?" he asks.

MEDIUM!

Then he looks at the girl and asks if that's all. She shrugs her shoulders incredulously, as if to say, "this jackass could barely get his order out, how should I know what the other one wants."

Anyway my wife pipes up and asks for a decaf something or other and he rings it all up.

I then asked him what time they close, since closing time isn't listed. He says what sounded like "It's never closing time." I swear that is what he said.

So I said "You're open 24 hours?" and he said "What?" with a puzzled look.

Then he said "We close at ten but on Sundays we close at 9:30."

What is this guy talking about? Was he told to instruct customers that it's never closing time? Is that more of Starbucks stupid ass branding trying to convince people that they are always there for you? Why can't I just order a damn beverage and why can't you tell me what friggin' time you close the place up.

Five dollars and twelve cents later we walk out of there. Somebody shoot me if I ever go back in.

We don't know what became of giganto mocha-whatsis and her paranoid daughter.