Starbucks Divas

I feel like I've been in this situation way too many times. I'm in line at Starbucks, (speaking of being in line, are there any times when that place isn't chock full of people? For those of you who have never been, it's sort of what you would picture supermarkets looking like if the apocolypse was nearing) ready to order my simple, low-maintenance drink, a tall Coffee Frappuccino. That's it. No specifications, don't ask me questions, just the frap and I'll be on my merry way.

But I always seem to be in line behind that person. The one with the longest list of instructions and preferences that by the time they're done, sometimes their drink doesn't even resemble what they ordered in the first place.
"Oh yes, hello. I'd like to order a hot chocolate, extra hot. Made with skim milk, actually, do you have any goats milk? How about water buffalo milk? Super chocolately- do you have chocolate harvested from the plains of Ecuador? Do you add marshmallows? No? Not to worry, I brought my own just in case!" REALLY?

Photo by openclipart.org

Unacceptable. Save that crap for when I'm not behind you in line.

Don't get me wrong- those drinks are expensive, so obviously you should get something you will enjoy. But think about these poor baristas- boiling milk seven times over and straining 2% milk to satisfy Mariah Carey-like diva needs, making minimum wage so they can pay for school...or drugs... or whatever. 

And if they're not going to think about the baristas- then they should think about ME, and all the other straight-shooting frap drinkers of the world. We're busy people- we have places to go, people to see...(blogs to complain on?) and in the words of wise woman Sweet Brown, "ain't nobody got time for that".