I usually have very few complaints about Starbucks. Which is why I'm willing to give the little barista from this morning the benefit of the doubt and assume that she's new. My reason? When I ordered my overpriced coffee-based beverage (<---not to be interpreted as a complaint; remember, I said very few) and requested it be made with skim milk, she asked, "do you still want the whipped cream?". Now, I was more than willing to overlook her choice of words, simply because I was in a good mood, but I would at least like to note that asking someone if they'd "still like the whipped cream" implies that it wouldn't be a good idea for them to answer "yes". I know, I know, it's a small, used-to-wait-tables (though not well) gripe, much like how you're trained never to ask a person requesting a table if it's "just one?" lest they feel like you're judging them for being a lone wolf at the Black-Eyed Pea on a Saturday night (which, of course, you were, but that's just bad customer service and not the way BEP does business, jerk), so like I said, more than willing to overlook that teeny blunder.
(That's right- there's more than one paragraph about my coffee ordering experience.) I answered no to the whipped cream question, got my magically delicious Pumpkin Spice Latte and was on my way. Upon my first real look at the cup (I refuse to inspect food-type-things in front of the person who just prepared them because I think that's rude and implies a lack of trust in their abilities to preform their chosen craft well and has cost me my requested ketchup more than once), it was pretty clear that either the two girls working the counter either didn't communicate my sans-whipped-cream desire or chose to ignore it, but either way, my latte rapidly became less "skinny" and more "whippy" than I'd hoped for. I don't order whipped cream with coffee for a couple of reasons, the foremost being that it leaves less room in the cup for the actual coffee, but second to that is the fact that that's a helluvalotta sugar to stuff into a drink. And I guess my real problem with this whole thing was that they'd gotten the skim milk part right. I would like for someone to explain to me why the hell I'd ask for that, but hang on the whipped cream, too, because, as I mentioned before, the barista subtlely pointed out that that's NOT A GOOD IDEA. The point is that one of the two of those girls seriously assumed that I was under the impression that since the milk was fat-free, I could freely go ahead with 400 calories (no shit- google it) worth of heavy cream and sugar without guilt. I'm fat, ladies, not stupid.
That rant up there? Not even meant to be funny. So if you didn't crack a smile, don't assume that I'm not even trying anymore and give up on me completely. Or do. I guess that's your choice.
So here's the deal- I'm hyped up, not only on a venti amount of caffeine, but also on like, a cup of pure sugar (bitches). And that's not conducive to a lazy Sunday morning. And since you're wondering why the hell I went ahead and drank the whole thing, or why I didn't at least come home and spoon all that creamy fat out of the cup, I'd like to say A.) that's none of your damn business and I'll thank you to stay out of my affairs (which is clearly why I put my affairs in an Internet forum) and B.) because the coffee/caffeine addiction is because I am my mother's daughter.
Lots of folks, especially female folks, call their moms to check in or to feel comfort or to be reassured. And that's not to say that those aren't all reasons why I do call my mom because they are. But generally, I call her because I know that my mom will let me babble on for hours without stopping me and will laugh appropriately and murmur "mmm-hmm" and "uh-huh" to indicate that she is still listening even though I haven't taken a breath in six minutes (that's right- my mom thinks I'm funny, so I don't really care if you stopped reading after I complained about Starbucks for an extensive period of time and are now clicking through Some eCards).
But don't for a second think that it's just me wearing her out:
Mom: I haven't been feeling well lately. I really need to start taking better care of myself again.
Me: Well, good for you. Are you still taking your vitamins? (see? I'm a good daughter)
Mom: ...
Me: Hello?
Mom: ::indistinguishable muttering::
Me: Mom? What are you saying?
Mom: No, okay? No. I am not still taking my vitamins.
Me: Uh...why not?
Mom: I hate taking them. I just hate it.
Me: Yeah, I don't understand. Why do you hate taking vitamins? That's like, the easiest way to claim you're taking care of yourself. Aside from, say, not lifting up your arm to insert poison into your mouth or something. It's just swallowing a pill. How hard is that? How can you hate that?
Mom: I don't hate taking all of them. Mostly the Vitamin C.
Me: Because it tastes funny?
Mom: No, because the tablets are so big. I can't swallow them.
Me: ::assuming there must be more to this because otherwise, my mom is a 5 year old:: They're too big? Why don't you just cut them in half?
Mom: Because then they have sharp corners and cut my throat. You know, like how a corn chip gets lodged in your windpipe? Like that. But with vitamins.
Me: Well, I mean, I understand that's unpleasant, but maybe if you just--
Mom: And then I throw up.
Me: You throw up.
Mom: Yep. If my throat is scratched, I throw up. Then all the other vitamins I took before the Vitamin C were pointless, so I just stopped taking them all.
Me: Um. Wow. That's...intense. Why not try the--
Mom: If you're going to say the liquid version of Vitamin C, don't. Because I already tried that. And it tastes terrible.
Me: Do you throw up from that?
Mom: No.
Me: So it's just a taste thing?
Mom: Yes.
Me: That's retarded.
Mom: It is NOT. And you refuse to take cough syrup, Kate. So back off.
Me: Alright. Fine. You're ridiculous. Let's talk about something else.
Mom: Good. Let's.
Me: Good.
Mom: Good.
Me: You know, you could just attempt to get more nutrient-rich food or something to make up for the lack of vitamin supplements.
Mom: Yeah, I know. But I don't know if I'll be listening to your advice on what's considered "good food".
Me: Why not!?
Mom: Because I read your Facebook post about red velvet yogurt, so I went to the store and bought a whole bunch of red velvet yogurt, and I honestly don't know how you eat that. It's awful. Seriously awful.
Me: Yeah, that post was about the frozen yogurt that I'm addicted to. Not grocery store yogurt. Though the grocery store yogurt isn't bad.
Mom: I didn't say all grocery store yogurt is bad. I said the red velvet is. It has a weird aftertaste.
Me: Oh. Well, try the Boston cream pie flavor. That's pretty good.
Mom: No, I don't like that one, either. Anything that's meant to be sweet shouldn't be made into fat-free yogurt. It has a bitter aftertaste.
Me: Alright, fine. I like strawberry banana, though.
Mom: Oh, ew. Really? How can you eat that?
Me: Seriously? How can you not eat that?
Mom: I don't like the flavor of strawberries and bananas together.
Me: Why the hell not??
Mom: I just don't, okay? I don't understand this "strawberry banana" craze everyone's going through.
Me: Now it's a "craze"??
Mom: Well, yes. It's in yogurt and smoothies.
Me: So that flavor combination being in two different foods constitutes a craze. That's what you're saying.
Mom: Yes. It is. It's in everything. And it's gross.
Me: Do you like fruit salad?
Mom: I love fruit salad.
Me: Does it have to be without bananas and strawberries for you to eat it?
Mom: No.
Me: So which part is your problem? The strawberry or the banana? Because I've seen you eat both of those things.
Mom: I like both of those things. Just not together.
Me: You're being serious. Oh my god.
Mom: So what?
Me: "So what"?? "So what?", mom? Because that's insane. What if someone were to put a bowl of strawberries and bananas in front of you?
Mom: I would not eat it.
Me: Liar! Of course you would!
Mom: I would not!
Me: Alright, fine, what about a bowl of like, blueberries and bananas?
Mom: I wouldn't eat that, either.
Me: Why the hell not!? That doesn't make any sense!
Mom: Because bananas are a pure fruit. They shouldn't be mixed with anything else. It destroys their purity.
But it's absolutely okay when I ask what she's had for dinner and she says she's mixed half a can of black-eyed peas with half a can of lima beans. Because that's completely normal and not at all homeless of her.
(Did you notice I managed to reference black-eyed peas twice just then? That is because I am a master of words.)
