I started a to write a post earlier today that was basically me ranting about someone that annoyed me (kind of a lot) at work last night. A couple paragraphs in I had to stop myself. "Is this what I write about?" I asked. "Is this what I do now? Rag on people who are perhaps a tad socially inept for simply trying to force me to have a conversation?" The answer to that, on this day, is no. On this day I will not do that. Maybe some other time, but not today. Instead, as a sort of penance, I will tell you a story about me that I am not particularly proud of.
I used to work at Starbucks. It wasn't always horrible, and sometimes it was fun. Most of the time, though, I was just jacked up out of my gourd on espresso, because it was free, and they made us get up really early in the morning, you guys.
So, it was one such morning in early December. I remember it was about 9:30, so I had probably already had at least four shots of espresso. I was on the till, which meant writing down/calling out drink orders, ringing folks up, and most pertinent to this story, fetching pastries. A man stepped up to the front of my line, youngish, kind of cute, and way too sleepy for what I was about to put him through.
"What would you like this morning?" I chirped, probably way too fast. I want to make it abundantly clear that what follows would not have happened were it not for the nearly-fatal amount of caffeine coursing through my veins. Actually, y'know what? It might have happened without the coffee. Who knows? I'm crazy as shit, y'all.
"Ummmmm, I'd like a short Americano, and I think I'll have a slice of that Gingerbread-bread," he replied.
I swear to you, I felt like I was out of my own body, watching a grin take my mouth as I said, "You want some Gingerbread-bread? You want some Ginger-ginger-gingerbread-bread? You want some Bread-ginger-bread-ginger-ginger-ginger-bread-ginger-"
And I just kept going! I couldn't stop!! I was standing there watching myself do this for, like, at least 45 seconds, which is a really long time if you count it out. And I watched him, visibly uncomfortable, but with no idea what to do. What do you do? When your only mistake was getting in the wrong line at Starbucks, and clearly this woman is batshit crazy, and you have not even had your coffee yet?
"Ginger-bread-bread-bread-ginger-ginger-bread?"Finally it seemed to be over. I paused. "And a short Americano?"
He nodded meekly, and did not make eye contact as I wrote his order on a cup, told him his total, accepted his cash and gave him change. And I only ever saw him in that Starbucks one more time. It was awkward. But maybe he started going somewhere better for his coffee. Maybe a Caffe Ladro! Or maybe he gave up coffee entirely. Christ, I hope not. Probably he just started going to the Starbucks on the other side of the street.