Um, I'll have a...

How many times have you ordered coffee or latté at Starbucks. (Groan, not another Starbucks story). I watch people at Starbucks it's highly underrated as a people watching zone. Or maybe it's not and people just don't mention it. Everyone talks about people watching at the mall and at the airport. Not so much Starbucks. But it is. People approach the counter and belt out their order which is in turn belted out to the Barista who will serve your coffee.

If people are watching me, they might see that I approach the counter with trepidation and fear. Like a dyslexic approaches a book. The words come out in a mumbled rush. I usually have to order twice. Sometimes it's even three times that the counter partner doesn't know what I said. I don't have confidence in my order. My knowledge of coffee speak. "I'll have a Grande Mocha, two pumps, iced." It comes out in a rush, a low rumble that confuses people. Or I'll be so anxious about getting my order right that it comes out, "Iced, Grande Mocha." I can't write it how it sounds. It's that bad. But, I never seem to order the same drink the same way twice.

It's even worse when you add on the food. Oh. My. God. I have to order a blueberry muffin or a lemon bar. I never know when to order it. Before the coffee? After the coffee? Did I order right? Did they hear me? To make the negotiation easier, I have several Starbucks Cards. What a great tool to reduce the amount I have to communicate with the Counter Partner. It's not about words, but I don't have to count cash. I don't have to worry that I gave them the wrong amount. I don't have to worry that I'm holding up the line of people waiting for their coffee rush. I even fumble the card. Fuck.

Then I can snag my 'food' and go hover at the pick-up counter waiting for my order. I am the first one in line, could the little bag be for someone else? I also snatch at it. Mine. Mine. Mine. Triumphant that I escaped the ordeal without the Counter Partner sneering at me. "You stupid Fuck. Order your goddamn coffee and move along. There are other people waiting in line." They always smile.

Once in the back of the store, at the pick-up counter I can obsess a little more. Did it come yet? Did I miss it? Did someone get my order by mistake? Do I use the long straw or the short one? SHit. Ah, there is my coffee. She's making mine. Coffee, milk, stir, ice, lid, smile. "Iced Grande Mocha," she calls. I glance around furtively to make sure everyone in line in front of me has gotten their order and gone. I claim my prize. I pluck the straw from it's paper wrapper and stab it at the cross cut hole in the lid. It never goes in. Just one more sign of my ineptitude.

It always has too much chocolate. In my haste to spew the words out to order I always forget the two pumps part and the bitter chocolate overrides the flavor of the coffee. Freak. Get out. Leave before people point and laugh. Look at the jackass that doesn't understand how Starbucks works. Move along little doggy. You'll do better next time