Post #151901 by Tiki_Bong on Sat, Apr 9, 2005 11:08 AM

As much as I despise StarBucks, I'll have to admit that I do drink their coffee because I enjoy the intense caffeine buzz (I guess it's just a throwback to the days of sweeping rails off mirrors with a straw).

I do however refuse to incorporate into my vocabulary the lame-ass-pseudo-european-language-that-doesn't-exist verbage that people waiting in front of me and behind me use just to order a cup of coffee.

For instance, just this morning I pulled into the Starbucks parking lot at Atlanta Ave and Magnolia Ave. (Please note that I'm referring to the Starbuck's on the North-East corner and NOT the Starbucks on the South-East corner nor the Starbucks on the North-East corner.)

After finding a parking spot between the battery of SUV's with the pimp-daddy-ghetto-fabulous-28"-polished-magnesium-rims, I enter the coffee crack house and wait my turn.

The person in front of me, best described as a 40 year-old reality show mother having a problem with advancing age, due to her hip huggers, tattoo above her quickly sinking butt crack, and of course, trucker hat, orders a grande, quad, ristretto, nonfat, dry cappuccino, affogato style.

After spewing her cacophony of caca, she sort of stands up straight, pulling her shoulders back, head held high, and smiles to herself at the delight of her obvious verbal achievement.

Not only are the customers into this secret code of nada, but the people behind the counter seem to pride themselves on being Sylvan Learning Center tutors of silliness.

Alright. So up comes the ever-pleasant Tiki Bong, jonesing and shaking at the deprivation of legal drug of choice, and to the delightfully smiling Starbucks starlet, I says "Just a large coffee".

She stands there, mouth agape, slack-jawed, eyes staring in a state of uncomprehensional disbelief, and says "what?".

She just could not understand what I had just ordered.

It was as though a large, glowing orb had just landed from a galaxy unknown, I had exited it, and walked in speaking a language to which they just could not decipher.

She said "what".

Little missy eventually had to retrieve a Starbucks manager (they make manager after successfully completed a mailorder course on advanced ditzy-ness) who had to then call Starbucks headquarters in order to translate my request.

What a day...