I know the little city I live in was voted "The Friendliest City in America" after all. And, who doesn't like a cheery town?! But, I must admit when I pull up to your drive-through coffee stops, I am faced with a few dilemmas.
Firstly, I can now pseudo skype with the cashiers as I order my drink before I even pull up to the window to see their faces in real time. I'm asked "how are you?" and "what can I get started for you?" and "did you want any food to go along with that?" Frankly, I'm not really sure how I feel about this whole skyping thing. It's cute and all, but I now feel like I HAVE to smile at the computer screen. Not smiling would mean I wasn't being friendly. Not being friendly would go against everything the city I live in stands for. It would be like when Horton asks all the Whos of Whoville to make noise so the Sour Kangaroo has proof the wee society exists. Except at first that old, hopping sourpuss doesn't hear the Whos because of one small shirker named JoJo. I mean, what would happen to the friendliest city with shirkers going about without smiling?! We might lose our title!!! GASP!
But back to you, Starbucks.....when I do finally inch my way up to the window after all the pleasantries, I'm asked 'what plans I have for the day'. Here in lies my real problem, Starbucks. I am stumped with just how honest I should or shouldn't be with the doe-eyed, coffee schlepping workerbees. What plans do I have??? I mean do your employees really care what plans I have? Do they really want to know I need to go buy my kid some new underpants because the washer broke and the new one hasn't come yet. Or that I need to find an over sized sweatshirt, with just one pocket in the front not two pockets on the sides, so that my hormonal eleven year old won't wear the same stinky hoodie every fricken' day. Or that when I get home I need to do the dishes and clean the toilets but how I'm stopping at Starbucks just to prolong the miserable tasks I have on my agenda? No Starbucks. No, I really don't think they want to know that.
So then begins the battle inside my very tired and overly frazzled brain as they stare back at me with a wide grin. What, exactly, do I say in return?? My standbys? "Oh you know, trying to stay dry" or " not much" or "off to run some errands". Or do I play with them a little and announce, "Today is the day I get my head shaved and that Mike Tyson tat on the side of my face I've been wanting!!"
But Starbucks! Thinking that much and that quick before caffeine is hard! I don't have witty comebacks or intelligent statements. I. Just. Want. My. Tall. Skinny. Carmel. Mocchiato for God's shake!!!! You've already forced me to order my coffee in codewords only people of the Pacific Northwest understand. Other than that, simple 'pleases' and 'thank yous' and 'have a nice day' is enough for me. No questions. No insights into my day. No first names basis. Just give me my drink, take my money and let me drive off into the drizzly, occasional rain showers and possible sun bursts. Because I Am That One Small Shirker in the friendliest city in America.