A few weeks ago, I went to Starbucks and ordered a pumpkin spice latte. I rarely order any of their specialty drinks, usually terrified of all the extra calories and sugar but damnit if a pumpkin coffee drink didn’t sound like something I ABSOLUTELY NEEDED IN THAT MOMENT. So, I handed over my life savings and took an eager sip and…recoiled. Uh. Wow. That there is a sweet drink and after a few tastes, I’m pretty sure I developed at least four cavities.
I e-mailed my friend E who is a fabulous Starbucks barista extraordinaire and asked her if she could please instruct me how to order the pumpkin spice latte without all the…pumpkin spice? She e-mailed me back, nice as can be, telling me that the flavor comes from the sugary syrup and just to ask for less pumps of it in my drink. Then in paranthesis she wrote (Oh, and since you don’t drink milk, you’d need to order it like this…) and proceeded to spell out the correct way of ordering the entire drink.
This made me very happy because I KNOW Starbucks baristas and they always roll their eyes when people order things “incorrectly”.
“A medium…whipped…uh, a soy iced decaf…wait…”
I was proud that I was now equipped to order my deliciousness properly however, it took me about 3 days to memorize the drink order because apparently I AM VERY HIGH MAINTENANCE ABOUT THESE THINGS. I was a bit overwhelmed realizing just how precise I was going to have to be when ordering it. I thought of maybe just letting it go, it was too much work but sure enough the weather got cooler and OH! A PUMPKIN! COFFEE DRINK! PLEASE!
As I stood in the line at Starbucks a few days later, I was exchanging annoyed glances with the woman in front of me as the shop was understaffed and the people before us were ordering 10 drinks a piece.
“They should just let us enter our drinks electronically,” she said. “Wouldn’t that save so much time?”
“I suppose so…” I concurred, not really having any opinion at all.
“I mean, geez. Not to mention these people and their drinks! I mean it’s just so ridiculous how specific people get.”
“Isn’t it?” I sighed.
“It is! It’s just really unnecessary and pretentious.”
And then she stepped forward and ordered a “tall skim latte” please and then flashed me a grin as if to say, “Look how normal I am!”
And then I stepped forward and said, “Hello. I would like a grande no whip soy two pump pumpkin spice latte please.”
And the woman in front of me fell over and died.
And my head exploded.
And you know what? The pumpkin spice latte wasn’t pumpkiny ENOUGH. I feel like my magic number might be three pumps. Now I have to go back and TRY IT AGAIN.
The other night, I walked in the door, dropped my bag onto a dining room chair with a huff and proceeded to remove my clothes. My roommate entered the kitchen to chat and watched me as I pulled my shirt off over my head. I had kept my sweater on for the walk from the subway and it was a little too warm for that not to mention the Starbucks drink I was sipping which had raised my temperature quite a bit.
“You know,” said my roommate slowly as I stood there in my bra, “You’re going to have to stop doing that soon.”
“Taking off your clothes in the living room?”
“But I’m hot!”
“I know. But…our subletter’s coming soon.”
“What about my pants? Do I have to keep those on?”
“Sorry. It’s just. Ugh. STRAIGHT PEOPLE ARE SO ANNOYING.”
I feel like, when the Republicans rant and rave about people living in big cities that have no religion and no morals…
They are probably talking about me, standing in my underwear in my living room in New York City, drinking a $50 seasonal Starbucks latte. Keep your kids far away from me is all I’m saying. I am what is wrong with this country. YES I AM.