Jun. 8th, 2008

So not only am I stuck in the office tonight, but my usual barista at Starbucks - the surly, untalkative one who is actually very pleasant so long as you do not try to engage her in conversation (which is the mark of a good servant and something that the majority of you, bound for the service industry as you are, should remember) - was replaced with this cheery coffee afficionado who tried to talk to me the entire time I was there. I mean, do I care if someone's on the swim team at Columbia or that they're working at Starbucks for the summer for the tuition credit or if they like my hair? Who even says that? "Your hair is really pretty." Honestly. It's like that bike messenger who always makes me sign for Wanda's crap - like that's not Mark's job, for God's sake.

I mean, who writes their phone number on the cardboard sleeve, anyway? What am I going to do, give him feedback on his lattes? Besides, if you write over the drink order, people won't be able to tell what drink is theirs, and then things just descend into chaos. What do I do to make this happen?

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Illyana Rasputin

April 2013

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