Just Coffee
Stopped at Starbucks last night. I was getting sleepy at the end of a long day, and there is a Starbucks not far from the hospital where I’d made a late stop to visit a parishioner. I’m not actually a big fan of Starbucks. I think the coffee is too strong, the prices are too high and I think it is ridiculous to call a “small” a “tall.” But I had a gift card and it was convenient, so I stopped.
There was quite a line, especially for that time of day. It gave me time to look around and soak in the atmosphere – the aroma, lots of wood and gleaming metal, and the efficient aproned staff. I waited patiently while the people in front of me ordered things like mint chocolate macchiatos, lowfat soy lattes and cinnamon skim cappucinos. Then I stepped up and ordered a small (excuse me, I mean “tall”) cup of coffee. The fellow behind the cash register tried to play it cool, but I clearly saw a moment’s hesitation and a look of astonishment flash across his face. Just coffee?
He called it back to the fellow who actually fills the cups, and he too was shocked. He looked at me like I was a three-legged dog. I can easily imagine him going home later that same night and saying to his roommate, “You’ll never guess what happened at work tonight. This guy comes in and all he wants is coffee!” For a few seconds I considered trying to blend in better by adding something to my order – mints, a gingerbread cookie, or a CD of Christmas songs distributed exclusively by Starbucks. But I was pretty sure I didn’t have enough left on my gift card to cover much more than the coffee.
So I took my steaming hot, too strong coffee and quietly went over to the little station where you add cream, milk, or half and half, plus sugar (regular white or unrefined brown) or honey or artificial sweetener. I put in half and half, regular sugar, and gave it a stir. I put the lid back on and took a sip. It was still too strong, but I could live with it, so I left.
I’ve felt like a misfit many times in my life. Last night’s stop at Starbucks was just one more.
There was quite a line, especially for that time of day. It gave me time to look around and soak in the atmosphere – the aroma, lots of wood and gleaming metal, and the efficient aproned staff. I waited patiently while the people in front of me ordered things like mint chocolate macchiatos, lowfat soy lattes and cinnamon skim cappucinos. Then I stepped up and ordered a small (excuse me, I mean “tall”) cup of coffee. The fellow behind the cash register tried to play it cool, but I clearly saw a moment’s hesitation and a look of astonishment flash across his face. Just coffee?
He called it back to the fellow who actually fills the cups, and he too was shocked. He looked at me like I was a three-legged dog. I can easily imagine him going home later that same night and saying to his roommate, “You’ll never guess what happened at work tonight. This guy comes in and all he wants is coffee!” For a few seconds I considered trying to blend in better by adding something to my order – mints, a gingerbread cookie, or a CD of Christmas songs distributed exclusively by Starbucks. But I was pretty sure I didn’t have enough left on my gift card to cover much more than the coffee.
So I took my steaming hot, too strong coffee and quietly went over to the little station where you add cream, milk, or half and half, plus sugar (regular white or unrefined brown) or honey or artificial sweetener. I put in half and half, regular sugar, and gave it a stir. I put the lid back on and took a sip. It was still too strong, but I could live with it, so I left.
I’ve felt like a misfit many times in my life. Last night’s stop at Starbucks was just one more.
posted by Jimbo | 2:11 PM
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