Since I don’t have much to report today, I’m thinking it’s about time I wrote a Starbucks post. I go there a lot and if I thought about it, I bet I could think up a bunch of anecdotes. You probably could too.
I sometimes have my clients pay me on my Starbucks card instead of with real money. This is really cool because $100 worth of lattes lasts a lot longer than $100 worth of groceries. It lasts for months, in fact!
I’ve noticed lately that our Starbucks is Gay Central. I’m fine with that. I can hang out with the most fabulous of the fabulous and that doesn’t bother me a bit. I love being surrounded by men who are prettier and more fashionable than I am.
What I have a problem with is the gay barrista who works there. He is a swell guy. Always friendly, quick with drinks…he’s great. The thing that bugs me is he keeps giving all the men free shots!!! The guy in front of me will get a free shot, the guy in back of me will get a free shot but when I get to the front of the line, what do I get? Nothing. No free shots for moms. I call prejudice! I want a free shot too!
I don’t really mind. Maybe he gets a lot of dates that way. More power to him. I don’t want to date him. I just think it’s kind of funny. One of these days I will get up the guts to tease him about it.
While we are talking about Starbucks…why am I the worst with spilling my coffee? You’d think the paper cups with the tiny little hole to sip from would be spill-proof but I have spilled coffee in every way imaginable. If there was an Olympic event for fastest way to get coffee through a little hole, or fastest way to dislodge the lid, I would win the gold.
I am all thumbs when it comes to holding my coffee. I have spilled coffee down the front of me. I’ve spilled coffee on other people. I’ve even spilled coffee three feet sideways when I caught a cup falling in midair and pinned it against the handle of a shopping cart. Sploosh went my coffee all over the grocery-store linoleum, narrowly missing a checker. I was so embarrassed.
I should not be allowed to hold coffee. I should just wear it on my back in one of those wineskin things and drink it through a very long straw. Thankfully, I take forever to drink my coffee and it is usually lukewarm or cold when I spill it. I have never yet (knock knock on my wooden head) spilled hot coffee on my baby.
I know I said I don’t mind hanging out with fabulous men who are prettier and more fashionable than I am… BUT I have to admit it is pretty sad when I show up at Gay Central (aka Starbucks) in my morning work-out attire (dumb-looking too-short sweats and baggy slouchy top that covers my not-so-tight mom-belly) and then I spill coffee all over my frumpiness too. Maybe that’s why I never get a free shot. Mr. Gay Barrista knows it would be wasted on me, literally.