I'm not a coffee drinker...
Wait, let me start by saying that I've laid off political and religious subjects this week in respect to Easter. It seemed like the WWJD thing to do. So...
I'm not a coffee drinker. Never have been. But, I live with two females that love the stuff. We could debate if a 13 (soon to be 14) year old should be drinking coffee...but I won't go there. I accept the argument that a cup of coffee can't be any worse than a bottle of soda. Moving on...
So from time to time, I find myself at the local Starbucks, which might as well be eastern Slovenia for me. It's like a completely different world...a make-believe world where people speak a pseudo-foreign language and pretend to be high society...or hip...or something I'm apparently not. Now, I understand the Italian connection with the origin of many coffee drinks coming from Italy, and the implied chicness of the whole fiasco called Starbucks, but what I don't get is the absolutely ridiculous sounding process for ordering.
I'm not Italian illiterate either. Aside for the Learn A Language While You Drive cassette series I played for months before an Italy trip that fell apart the day prior to departure, the Sopranos were a weekly ritual at my house. I know Italian...well...some Italian. I know latte is Italian for milk, I know grande means large. What I don't understand is why a grande iced vanilla latte at Starbucks isn't a large cup of milk with vanilla flavor. What gives?
So, this morning I find myself alone in the drive-thru at Starbucks filled with anxiety. Since I love my wife more than any earthly thing, I'm doing this for her. For me... it's virgin territory. I refuse to order when we all go together, making my wife or the teenager do the honors...and..always making fun of the process. I want a frappa mocha latte venti or some other ridiculously sounding fictional concoction. But here I am...ready to order.
Speaker: Welcome to Starbucks. Would you like to try one of our fancy smancy new sandwiches?
I'm frozen. What did she say she wanted?
Just a minute please.
Speaker: Take your time and order when you're ready.
I'm sure the seven hundred and twenty cars behind me want just that...me to take my time. I glance over the menu board looking for some type of trigger word...but it's all so...foreign.
Uh, uh mocha, latte, venti, frappachino, cappachino...before I even realized, I say...out loud...
Frappa mocha latte...uh
Speaker: Excuse me sir?
Nothing would do my heart more good than to break into a speaker rant over why Starbucks had to stop selling the black and white cookie...it's all I ever liked there! But I have loved ones waiting in the balance on me performing this simple task.
Text message! Thank you Jesus! She sent what she wanted in a text message! A few quick clicks...
I'll take a iced vanilla latte venti please. Not a perfect delivery...wrong indefinite article grammatically...but hey...I'm a rookie.
Speaker: That will be $4.33. Thank you pull forward.
$4.33! For a cup of coffee! I'm I picking this up IN Italy? That's an entire #1 Value Breakfast Meal WITH a large iced tea at Mickie D's.
As I'm pulling forward, I notice the 'Coexist' bumper sticker on the BMW in front of me...nice...this is now the company I keep...very nice.