Rants and Ramblings: random commentary about culture, media, politics, technology and whatnot.

once more, from the top

I think I have a gift for making things difficult for myself. Like today’s Starbucks run.

I offered to go get coffee for two of my coworkers. They gave me money and a Post-It with their orders. Easy enough.

Except as soon as I got into the elevator, I realized I’d left the list on my desk.

So I rode the elevator down to the ground floor, then hit “5” to go back upstairs. Ducked back into my cube to grab the Post-It. Hustled back to the elevator.

Made it all the way to my car, in the second basement level, when I realized that I’d left my car keys in my jacket pocket rather than in my purse. The jacket was in my cube.

Tapping my toe impatiently, I rode up two floors in the garage elevator, then up another five in the office elevator to my floor. Grabbed the jacket. Back to the elevator. Back to my car. Up the ramp. Down the street to the mall. Speed-walk to the coffee shop.

My first mistake was asking if my current favorite Starbucks drink, the Double Chocolate Chip Creme Frappucino (that’s a mouthful!), was being served, even though it wasn’t on the menu (although the other two creme flavors were on the menu). I think the barista was new; he had no clue what a creme was, much less the particular flavor I was requesting. Before I could say anything else, he took the Post-It from me to input my coworkers’ orders, and confused my order with the first drink on the Post-It list, a Chocolate Mocha Frap. Mass confusion ensued, but was (I thought) resolved when a more knowledgeable barista came over to help.

I paid for the drinks, then went to the other end of the counter to wait for my order. A barista handed me my drink. And I waited … and waited … and waited for the rest of my order as customer after customer came through, made their orders and picked up their drinks.

Finally, the barista behind the coffee machine asked me what I drinks I was waiting for. I handed him the Post-It. More confusion behind the counter, as the coffee-making barista (C.B.), the knowledgeable barista (K.B.) and the newbie barista (N.B.) conferred. C.B. made up one of the drinks in my order and handed it to me with an apology, then moved on to the next customer’s order.

And I waited some more.

C.B. asked me if I needed anything else. I replied that I was still missing the Mocha Frap. K.B., who had made my Chocolate Creme, said that he’d already made a Mocha Frap for me. I shook my head. There was a bit more conferring among the three baristas behind the counter, and then K.B. turned around and started preparing the drink. While I waited, C.B. handed me a coupon for a free Starbucks drink as an apology for all the confusion.

K.B. handed me the last drink in my order and offered me a tray to hold them all. I hustled back to my car and to the office, miraculously managing not to upend the tray and spill everything en route.