So there I am, on my lunch hour waiting at the Starbuck’s counter inside Barnes & Noble, 2 bargain books in hand for purchase along with my Iced, Venti, fat-free, half-caff, extra-caramel, caramel macchiato.
One of the books perched precariously on my arm was about a Southern Belle who seemingly gets away with killing her high-school sweetheart (for awhile) until it catches up with her years later in modern-day Chicago. And the other is a parodied, How-To sex book chosen as a gag gift for my best friend’s upcoming bachelorette party.
I am almost giddy about my cheap and decadent literary purchases as I anticipate the rush I’m about to feel from all the sugar and caffeine I’ll soon be consuming in my coffee confection.
As I hand my books to the cashier and eloquently—if not poetically—place my order, I become aware of two grey-haired gentlemen approaching from behind. One man, who I’d guess to be about 75, is speaking very loudly to the other about how he has to take his pill very soon. They are eye-balling the menu and scratching their heads when I hear them mumble to one another the ultimate question: How in the HELL do you just order a “regular cup of coffee” in this place?!
While I am paying for my purchase, the cute little green-apron-clad barista asks the gentlemen what they would like. One of the men says very clearly to her: “I would like a REGULAR coffee please. None of that special stuff will be necessary. I just want your plain Starbucks coffee.”
The girl in the green apron hesitates slightly and says to the man in a slightly raised voice: “Sir, we have SEVERAL varieties of Starbucks coffee here.” And then she launches into a sermon about light and medium roast blends versus richer, darker blends.
The man tries again, this time attempting to be a bit more adventurous, and trying to meet her in the middle with attempted “coffee-house speak” by ordering a Starbucks “House Blend.”
The barista, exasperated by this man’s total inability to relate to the extensive foreign-language menu hanging ominously on the wall, practically shouts: “Sir!?! We have many, MANY HOUSE blends. Which ONE can I get for you?!?”
He leans across the counter to meet her gaze, agitated, and now aware of the “stir” (pun intended) this exchange is causing and replies: “You know, all I want is a basic coffee, just a BASIC coffee. I don’t know how to read that DAMN menu!” Then unintelligible and frustrated grumbles and mumbles come from both of these poor men.
By this time, the cute little barista in the green apron has transformed into a wild-eyed, cup-wielding, crazed, green-aproned MONSTER as she throws the cups around, heaves heavy sighs, rolls her eyes and begins to fill his cup with something hot and brown… presumably and Lord willing, some type of “basic” coffee.
As I take my receipt and fold it into my purse… concealing my grin the entire time, biting my lip and trying desperately not to laugh at the scene I’ve just witnessed… I see a 70-ish woman behind the men in line say to them in a soothing tone: “Come on guys… just accept it… we’re living in the 20-something century now.”
And I walk away.
Looking back on what that lady said to her fellow septuagenarians was actually quite profound. At first I thought she was referring to the 21st century in which we now live… but she couldn’t remember whether it was the 20th or 21st. However, with our culture’s exponentially-increasing pace, it could ALSO be called “the 20-something century”… because I’m sure that to the 70-somethings, it is the youth—the “20-somethings”— to whom THIS century now belongs.
14 thoughts on “The Septuagenarians in Starbucks”
I have to admit Starbucks intimidates me too. You have to memorize your favorite coffee so you sound somewhat intelligent when you order. Fortunately my first visit to the place was with you and you could interpret!
Absolutely! Did you ever wonder why there are only about 2 or maaaaybe 3 things that I order from the menu? It’s because I can order them without tripping on my tongue 😉
Good observation because way back you know in the old days things did belong more to the older people. No wonder they look at me funny for a minute when I order a “large” instead of one of those fancy names for a large. One almost has to be a rocket scientist to order from that place.
I know Linda, I know people who REFUSE to order their sizes like tall, grande or venti. They KNOW what the sizes are because they have memorized them like my mom said… but they refuse to order correctly out of spite 😀
The Sep……. (what ever you said) narians are with a label that long, obviously aliens probably from the planet formerly known as Pluto! 😀
haha.. Poor little Pluto 😦 Maybe Stabucks should name a drink after it! 😉
Ha! Drink those frapuccinos fellas! Nature says you must! :O
🙂 haha… I love it!
Useless girl working in the Starbucks, I’d say. Clearly choice wasn’t what they were looking for. Make a decision on a medium roast something for them and let them leave happy instead of frustrated. That sort of thing drives me nuts.
Yeah, she was awful. I really felt bad for those two older gentlemen. I HATE rudeness in the service industry. Hate it! There’s something wrong when I am friendlier than the server is.
Oh boy, I’m glad I just stick to the simple drinks on the menu. I make it simple and just get the same thing (almost) every time while on campus. Makes everyone’s lives easier. 🙂
Definitely! I do the same thing too. Being a “regular” somewhere helps too because they can start making it up once they see you arrive at the counter 😉
Reminds me of a news story I read last month of a professor who was thrown out of Westside Starbucks for refusing to use the accepted lingo.
The article is linked below:
I can’t wait to read it. I am headed to bed now but will read it tomorrow. Thanks for sharing! Though I am shocked to hear that went down! How awful!