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addicted to starbucks

One thing about working is that, when you are assigned a project whose essence you detest, you become very easily distracted.  After finding it extremely difficult to focus on the tasks at hand, while the clock tick tick tick away, and truth be told, a trip to the restroom to reapply my makeup, I made a resolution to

STOP BEING A LOSER!

I stormed back into the office.

“I am going to stop being a loser!” I announced.

“How are you going to do that?!” My lone co-worker chuckled.  Don’t worry.  You don’t have to beat him up for me.  He’s in the same boat.  Or so I think…  Hmmm…

Anyway.  I decided that a cup of Starbucks would help me leave my loser-dom.  Or at least help me get away from the computer for a while.

Ummm. Pumpkin spice latte.  One of the reasons I love autumn.

“Pumpkin spice. Skim. Extra Shot. Please.”

“And what size would you like that?”

“Extra large.”

Pause.  Uh-oh.  This one is not MY usual barista who’s threatened to not sell me anything because I used the wrong term and whom I readily forgave on account of his hotness.  This is a new guy.  Younger.  Hello!

“Extra large please.”

He looked so confused.  I almost had pity on him and was about to translate it into Starbucks lingo for him, when he asked, tentatively,

“Did you say Extra Hot?”

He he he.  I was laughing inside.  Yeah, I am Extra Hot.  Ha ha. Then, quickly, God. I need to get a life.

“Miss?”

Now it’s me who lost their bearing.  I think he’s only 7 years older than my oldest.  My mind at the same time had a flashback to the Mama Mia episode on 30 Rock when Liz Lemon realizes she does not know how old Tracy is nor can she tell…

So it applies to my group too!  Awesome! I thought.  Ooo.  I need to write a paper on that one. Then quickly, Dude, you are one of the vainest people I know.  Is this part of the mid-life crisis you are going through?

Wait.  I didn’t know I was going through a mid-life crisis…  WTF?!

I pointed at myself quizzically, like an idiot, then realized what I was doing, quickly, yet probably not as smoothly as I’d hope, moved my finger to my temple to pretend that I was going to press on my temple all along.  I raised my eye brow,

“No.”

“Would you like whipped cream with that?”

“Of course.”  Too quickly. Damn. This totally contracted with “SKIM”.  I hate irony, when it happens to me.

I don’t think I was being paranoid, but he had a look that said he also recognized the irony and was laughing inside. Probably was going to tweet about it too:

@NewYoungBarista Have to laugh at people who order Skim and then ask for Whipped cream.

Fine. Smartie pants. Then why did you ask me then? It’s totally not fair if you laid out a trap just waiting for me to walk right in.

Tomorrow I am going to go to Dunkin Donuts instead.  The man just screams at you,

“What size? Cream and Sugar?”

Then he screams back,

“Extra Large. Cream and Sugar. $2.03. NEXT!”

There is NO judgement whatsoever.

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I have not travelled around the world enough to be a credible source, but from what I have seen, this is probably the best looking Starbucks…
 
 

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My 6-year-old proclaimed all of the sudden last night when he watched me taking off my face (make-up). I burst out laughing and asked him to elaborate.

“You look funky in the morning when you don’t have your coffee. Then when you come home from work, you look pretty. And then you look funky again when it is bedtime. You and daddy just look better after you have your coffee in the morning.”

Moments like this make me appreciate being a mother.

This morning when he woke me up though, he said, “You should go and have some coffee now. You look funky.” I dared not ask him what he meant by funk-ee…

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