Buzz

Hello and welcome to Starbucks Blog where all I talk about is Starbucks every day! Ha ha, I'm just kidding.

Wait, no I'm not today I ordered a red eye because "It sounded good"--Ashanti. Huge mistake. On the upside, the taste of their ok espresso slightly masks the taste of their awful coffee. On the other hand, I didn't eat dinner last night but drank mismatching alcohols, so with the caffeine, I am in turns light-headed or heavy, hyper or mellow, starving or repulsed by food, and headachey or headachey in a slightly different region. Right now: light-headed/hyper/starving/center. Any portion of this Livejournal status is subject to change without warning.

[Time passes...]

Ok I went and ate a Bagel With Cream Cheese and Bacon, which is basically the 1-up mushroom of fatty hangover cures, so my humanity is restored.

The reason I was drinking is that it was karaoke league night. It didn't go too well, and I am disappointed. I only got ONE compliment: "You look good in a dress." While appreciated, I ALREADY KNOW THAT! Step it up, people! Last week someone asked if I was an actor or studied movement. Another kid told me I scared him. If you want Snooki: Reloaded to provide you with high-quality performances on a regular basis, you need to say nice things about me with great abandon EVEN WHEN WE DROP THE BALL LIKE WE SORTA DID LAST NIGHT SORRY! I will never again tolerate such disappointment.

All of My Posts Are About Starbucks and This One Is No Exception

It happened! This morning I officially became the Foursquare Mayor of my corner Starbucks! Honestly: sort of disappointing.

I was hoping for a lot more pomp around the occasion, but I chickened out from showing the girl at the register how cool I am. I will probably tell Latte Boy tonight. He will care.

Anyway, I have a look-alike and he needs to die. Last week I went in, and the barista working was all "Grande quad macchiato, right?" and I was like "Uh, no." He said, "That's not what you always get?" and I replied, "No, never!" I was aghast because anyone who needs 4 shots of Starbucks' sweet, sweet crude obviously has some Vampire Diaries circulation issues going on inside.

That's when the kid (he has a proper nickname, but it's racist so I'm censoring) told me I look exactly (exactly!) like someone else who comes into the shop all the time. Then he got everyone else working to agree.

So today, a different barista (without a nickname) took my order and then fulfilled the Starbucks Corporation's deluded attempt to make us believe they are a feel-good, neighborhood coffee shop by asking my name for the order. But instead of asking like he should have done, he showed off with: "It's Brian, right?"

"No."

"What? Are you sure?"

"YES I AM SURE OF MY OWN NAME NOT BEING BRIAN!"

So he also went off on how much I look like (apparently) Brian. That's when Looks Like My Ex-Boyfriend Guy, who was there for the original incident, said to No Nickname Guy: "Yeah, someone else did this to him last week" in a tone that further communicated "so just go make his damn drink." I appreciated that. Looks Like My Ex-Boyfriend Guy has always been one of my favorites, and now I like him 12% more. I said to him, "I really want to see what this asshole looks like." He said, "It's true; you two look really similar."

So if you have any leads, I'd like this kid out of the picture as soon as possible. Here's what I know:

1. His name is Brian
2. He looks like me
3. Either:
   1. He cannot maintain a healthy sleep schedule, OR,
   2. He is a vampire who walks in the day

The moral of the story is this is the first time I've been confused with someone male, so I guess it's not all bad.

There's a Boy Who Works at Starbucks...

1. There's a boy who works at Starbucks with shaggy hair and a sexy smile.
2. There's a boy who works at Starbucks who laughs kinda like a doofus.
3. There's a boy who works at Starbucks who smells just like a sexy boy should.
4. There's a boy who works at Starbucks who's kinda oddly-shaped.
5. There's a boy who works at Starbucks who always asks me how I am.
6. There's a boy who works at Starbucks who remembers my name and what book I was reading a month ago.
7. There's a boy who works at Starbucks whose name I don't know.
8. There's a boy who works at Starbucks whose name I forgot.
9. There's a boy who works at Starbucks who always catches me looking.
10. There's a boy who works at Starbucks who I always catch looking.
11. There's a boy who works at Starbucks whose body I want.
12. There's a boy who works at Starbucks whose body I could never have.
13. There's a boy who works at Starbucks who is very inspirational.
14. There's a boy who works at Starbucks who makes me feel better about myself.
15. There's a boy who works at Starbucks who I secretly like.
16. There's a boy who works at Starbucks who secretly likes me.
17. There's a boy who works at Starbucks, and it'll never happen.
18. There's a boy who works at Starbucks, and there's no way in hell.

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There are two boys who work at Starbucks: Evens and Odds.

I officially work by the WORST SHITTIEST STARBUCKS EVER. I promise not to do this more often (reprint here stuff I've written elsewhere) but this is my Yelp review of the place:

It's official. This is the worst Starbucks ever ever ever created and I hope it BURNS in the Great Starbucks Purge of 2008.

Oh, but Rachel N.... Rachel N. has it right. I keep coming here because it is close to my work and I am lazy. Lazy lazy lazzzzy. Every time there's this long line and everyone's all "That's not my drink." "Do you have a soy mocha in there, I ordered it like 10 minutes ago!" "No, I said SKIM. SKIIIIIIM!" "No, you're swiping the card upside-down!"

There used to be a girl who liked me that worked here. She was probably the slowest and dimmest of all the employees, but at least she was infatuated with me, y'know? I'd have someone to talk to while I waited 20 hours for my drink to come. She's gone now.

But I keep coming here. I must hate myself. I must secretly want myself to die of boredom, frustration, starvation, and caffiene deficiency all at once while the missing link tries to decipher the syllables in "raspberry scone."

I don't believe in evolution anymore.

Speaking of evolution, am I crazy or is it not right that every one of these puppies looks exactly the same? Why don't crazy inbred puppies end up with hairlips and all that crap that incestuous humans get?

Be warned. They don't ship their babies.

Anyway, side note, I'm looking for a cheap notebook computer, as small and light as possible, for writing and web browsing only. It doesn't have to be powerful, but it has to be small and light, and I'm looking to spend as little as possible. Suggestions please, though I have lots coming in. No Craigslist.

Wait nevermind, I just found my answer I think. Or the Eee. Whatever it doesn't matter the point is I already have a friend figuring it out for me.

I Got Hit On (Hopefully a more regular segment)

I just got hit on at Starbucks because I am a sexy Adonis-breath and you are not.

He was alright looking, but I was more alright looking and he knew it and I could tell he was staring while we were waiting for our drinks, and he was kind of inching over and building up courage. It was totally adorable in a zero self-confidence, odd shoes kinda way. He finally leaned over and said "Why is it that we're the only people who have ordered drinks in the last 5 minutes, yet they're making stuff that's not ours and it just sitting there?"

From Flickr.

Typical flirting technique: Stock Conversations. Whining about service at Starbucks counts as stock because it requies absolutely no wit to observe. It's as creative as putting clip art on a homemade birthday card and just as effective, but I gave this guy a pass on account of being on a timeframe and because I hadn't given him any eye contact beyond the initial 'Oh You Like Me So I Will Smile So You Keep Looking Because I Feel Fat Today' glance.

Anyway, I was all "I think it's part of the Starbucks Experience" and he was all "Huh huh, yeah." And then he said "I don't mean to be impertinent--" (then don't say anything impertinent) "--but I was noticing that those pants look really good on you.'

Then it was my turn to be Awkward Loser Boy because I said "Yeah. Thanks. They're jeans."

Yeah, great. They're jeans. Stupid. But it was hard! Usually I return a compliment with a compliment, but I couldn't think of anything to say! I didn't like any of his clothes. Plaid! What do you want? Nice 5-o'clock shadow?

But whatever my drink came and I said "Oh, yippie, I beat you!" and then I took it and left with a "See ya!" which translated to "Haha, you didn't move fast enough to give me your number which is fine because I didn't want it bye!"

Getting hit on in public is my favorite thing even if it's from people I'm not remotely into like today. It's well-lit, nobody's drunk, people usually aren't trolling the Starbucks line in a horny way.... You're able to say "Someone finds me attractve" without any of that second-guessing that comes from being in a bar. So I don't feel fat anymore. I feel pretty.

Anyway, I'm going back tomorrow at the same time and maybe my Starbucks will be free!