Dear Katie,
Since I come by Starbucks almost every day, I feel I can be honest with you. After all, we have been through a lot together. Just last week, you got me into trouble with my husband. I was on my cell phone with him as I placed my order over the drive-through speaker. Your sweet voice came back and said, “Oh, hi, Neila! I remember you from yesterday.”
I know you were trying to be nice, Katie, but you didn’t hear the loud, “WHAT?! They know you there, ALREADY?!” from my husband.
So, Katie it has come to this. I think you are trying to kill me. I don’t know why, but I truly feel that you have it in for me in some way. Katie, you are not stirring my drinks. I know you have spoons in there, Katie. I can see them through the drive-through window. Even if you couldn’t find a spoon, can’t you go grab one of the millions of little wooden stirrers that I know you people buy in bulk. Yes, it may take an extra five seconds, but it is the little things that count, Katie. And isn’t our relationship important enough for you to make that extra effort?
Last week when I came through, I ordered a triple venti nonfat iced mocha. First of all, Katie, you put in four shots. I know this because the ticket said, “Quad.” Do you not think I’m jittery enough as it is, Katie? Are you trying to raise my blood pressure even more? I am a naturally high-strung person, so please, no extra shots unless I ask.
On top of that, you put the coffee in the cup first and didn’t stir. Katie, I sucked up two shots of espresso in one sip of the straw. I was driving. And coughing. It was not pleasant. Did you deliberately want me to get into an accident? Why are you doing this to me, Katie?
Today, I came in again. And there you were, Katie. Happily working, acting as if you and I have not had these recent problems. I ordered my venti nonfat white mocha (hot). And you didn’t stir. This pains me. All the syrup is on the bottom of the cup, Katie. Do you think it stirs itself? I assure you, it does not.
I don’t want to break up with you, Katie. I really don’t. But if your heart isn’t fully in this relationship, you may force me to go to another coffee shop. Don’t do it, Katie. Don’t. Do. It.
Since I come by Starbucks almost every day, I feel I can be honest with you. After all, we have been through a lot together. Just last week, you got me into trouble with my husband. I was on my cell phone with him as I placed my order over the drive-through speaker. Your sweet voice came back and said, “Oh, hi, Neila! I remember you from yesterday.”
I know you were trying to be nice, Katie, but you didn’t hear the loud, “WHAT?! They know you there, ALREADY?!” from my husband.
So, Katie it has come to this. I think you are trying to kill me. I don’t know why, but I truly feel that you have it in for me in some way. Katie, you are not stirring my drinks. I know you have spoons in there, Katie. I can see them through the drive-through window. Even if you couldn’t find a spoon, can’t you go grab one of the millions of little wooden stirrers that I know you people buy in bulk. Yes, it may take an extra five seconds, but it is the little things that count, Katie. And isn’t our relationship important enough for you to make that extra effort?
Last week when I came through, I ordered a triple venti nonfat iced mocha. First of all, Katie, you put in four shots. I know this because the ticket said, “Quad.” Do you not think I’m jittery enough as it is, Katie? Are you trying to raise my blood pressure even more? I am a naturally high-strung person, so please, no extra shots unless I ask.
On top of that, you put the coffee in the cup first and didn’t stir. Katie, I sucked up two shots of espresso in one sip of the straw. I was driving. And coughing. It was not pleasant. Did you deliberately want me to get into an accident? Why are you doing this to me, Katie?
Today, I came in again. And there you were, Katie. Happily working, acting as if you and I have not had these recent problems. I ordered my venti nonfat white mocha (hot). And you didn’t stir. This pains me. All the syrup is on the bottom of the cup, Katie. Do you think it stirs itself? I assure you, it does not.
I don’t want to break up with you, Katie. I really don’t. But if your heart isn’t fully in this relationship, you may force me to go to another coffee shop. Don’t do it, Katie. Don’t. Do. It.
9 comments:
hope your relationship will get better with Katie...
(hope to see it in the next post)
anyway i fav your blog at my tehcnorati
Now I know why I've never gone to Starbucks. It's because of Katie. All this time I thought it was because I'm fifty miles away from one.
Does Aaron from Caribou know that you're seeing another Barista???
Can it be true that Desert Songbird lives 50 miles from a Starbucks? I didn't know that was possible anymore.
I tell you this, Neila. It's her loss. If she can't get her shit together, you're better off without her.
My personal "Katie" is named "Steph" - @ Starbucks Düsseldorf, Germany. *sigh*
"Tag! you´re it!" :)
Yes Aaron @ Caribou (who no longer is at Caribou) knows she is cheating, but it is okay, I don't work at a coffee shop right now, but will start @ Seattle's Best on Monday.. See you there Neila..
It's a sad day when you and your barista can't make a go of it. I truly hope you are able to work this out.
It would be a damn shame if you had to start carrying your own stir sticks.
Sadie - nope, not me. Different Donna. I happen to have two Starbucks within a 1/4 of a mile of my house. Yes, TWO Starbucks.
Thank you, thank you. Yes, I know I'm spoiled. Neither one has a drive-thru, though. The drive-thru Starbucks in two miles from my house (oh - the horror!)
Heh heh heh...that was too funny. Poor Katie. She doesn't know what she's got herself into does she?
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