August 14th, 2008


Letter To A Starbucks Barrista

Dear Cute Hipster Barrista Girl In My Downtown Seattle Building's Starbucks,

Please don't judge me. Please don't look down upon me from your trendy brown-framed lenses with your ironic Flock of Seagulls hairdo just because I'm getting my order refilled. Please don't crucify me for knowing the proper Order Refilling Procedure.

I only come in here for iced tea, I swear! If anybody else in this fucking city knew how to make a damned tea that didn't fuse mangos, melons or berries into it, I'd gladly go there. Your employer just happens to be convenient, and not so overly priced that it cramps my wallet. In fact - don't tell anyone - but for the size and quality, you have the cheapest tea around ... SHHH!

I know you get bombarded with d-bags on a daily basis. Corporate fucknuts all too willing to share their platitudes with the rest of the people in line, like any of us give a shit. The thing is, you're confronted with these people for 30-second bursts; I have to work with them all fucking day!

I think it's safe to say that you hate your job just as much as I hate mine. Really, Cute Hipster Barrista Girl, we have much more in common than you think. And yes, I will try a free sample of your fruit cobbler. Indeed, I HAVE been wondering what it tastes like; no I was not blowing smoke up your ass, don't GIVE me that look! I just can't justify paying 2 bucks for a little slice of key lime-pie tasting heaven.

Look, I'm going to go ahead and wrap this up here because this looks like I'm obsessing and really I'm not. I just want you to know, it WILL get better! For both of us; we'll have our damned day in the sun! In the meantime, chin up. There are some of us in your presence who understand the plight of the job-loathing opportunist.

P.S. Can you tell the morning crew to stop being so cheery? 9am is too early for all that can-do attitude.