no room for cream please.

April 21, 2011

it’s my belief that some of the most interesting people in my life are those that serve me my coffee.

of late, my tea.

jefferey a born-again, post-pubescent, recently out of the closet starbucks manager, who fiercely insists my skirts are too too long and my make-up too too natural, has wrapped my heart around his spray-tanned, blonde highlighted, keith urban crushin soul.

allison, his co-worker, snuggled her way into my affection with her behind-the-counter bambi, shy sweetness, rainbow colored fingernails, and off-the-clock salty tongue.

down the street at peet’s, i have tony. his piercings rival the mursi for inspiration and content.

i shudder with anticipation at what new plate, hoop or stud i’m going to meet at the front of the line.

tony mates his scary holes with a charming, genuine, southern gentility.

always a wordsmith, tony’s answers to my “how are you?” tickle my roget bone daily.

yesterday tony was “unparalleled.”

{big smile}

at my afternoon peet’s {location #2} a completely different cast of characters lurks: younger, angst-ridden, pseudo depraved, totally loveable.

benjamen: an actor, a writer, an anarchist, a teddy bear.

somehow we actually became facebook friends.

his latest status updates were:

“shut up juice newton” and “i’m barefaced and look absolutely disgusting! i don’t recognize myself.”

rumor was he got fired. i like to believe he’s off scribing his masterpiece, minus the madness, drink and drugs.

a girl can only hope.

boy made fine tasting lattés though.

yesterday i ambled into peet’s #1 for an afternoon jasmine fancy green tea.

{4 days and counting coffee free}

as my fragrant, spring buds steeped, i struck up cashier conversation with the new, “barista in training”, as she learned the ins and outs of register and customer care.

furthering my belief in the richness of coffee bar patron/server relationships i showed her my 5-year-old peet’s 40th anniversary debit card; my intention was to point out my loyalty….seeing as how peet’s is now having its 45th anniversary, and also my inane ability to waste plastic gift cards. merely a breezy, light chat as we waited for my tea to brew {one of the MANY downfalls of tea}.

apparently my words were too S.A.T. or my math too algebraic for baby trainee. rather than going along with her allegiant, coffee-deprived customer’s story, or at least saying she didn’t understand…..dumbass newbie said to me….

“oh…well you don’t look like you’re in your 40’s.”

??????????????????????????

nothing against the 40’s. in fact, i’m more excited to get there than i am 35. but all in good time.

and i don’t need to look younger than my age, but i definitely don’t want to look a decade older!!!!

especially from some twit telling me the simpsons began before she was born.

i hereby recount all barista love.

they can suck it. they’re always crapping up my order and sneaking in non-fat milk. are you trying to tell me i NEED non-fat?

and i mean, really? you KNOW large means venti!!!

i also kind of blame all this on tea.

  • This once happened to me. I almost always get that I look younger than I am, but one hairdresser thought I was 35 when I was 25. Needless to say, I never went back there again. Worst part, she managed to cut a cowlick into my hair. Figures.

  • Like the time I was called "some lady" at Abercrombie by some belly showing teenager. Twit.

  • You're on facebook kitten?! I want to know you there. Blame it all on the tea. <3 xo

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