A Letter to Starbucks Customers

Written in 2001, when I was a disgruntled employee of the SCC. To quote Randal Graves, "This job would be great if it weren't for the customers."

Dear Drinker,

The Starbucks Coffee Company would like to thank you for being a patron. However, we feel that a few very important issues need to be addressed.

First of all, we'd like to apologize on behalf of all your parents, whose recessive gene hand-me-downs you recieved obviously weren't stable enough to carry common sense with them, you mentally challenged genetic freaks.

Unless you walk into Burger King asking for Chicken McNuggets, please don't come into our store requesting a mochachino, whatever the hell that is. On the same note, please don't ask for a drink your "friend bought the other day" when you haven't the slightest clue as to whether it was hot or cold, let alone what the fuck it was called. We can only offer you two things in that situation: the finger and the door.

Regarding your other question, "Is this my ice water?" - if you are referring to the clear plastic cup on the bar containing cold, clear liquid, then yes. If you haven't learned to recognize a glass of water by this point in life, you deserve to be thrown headfirst into a shallow pool because a lack of perception that bad is going to get you or someone much more useful killed in the future anyway, you inconcievable retard.

No, you cannot have a "non-fat breve mocha," because breve, by its very nature, is never non-fat, you hose-brained moron. Also, no matter how many times you declare that it is not an iced latte you want, you cannot have an iced cappuchino, because a cappuchino is partly foam, and cold milk cannot produce foam. If you want an iced cappuchino, I'm afraid you'll simply have to go fuck yourself instead.

Please do not request your "usual drink." We know you come to Starbucks every day of your pathetic life, but so does everyone else. You don't get special recognition just because you used to be in special education.

If a product does not have a price tag, please do not proclaim, "I guess it's FREE then!" We're glad that your friends have enough sympathy for your low-brow sense of humor to laugh at the things you say, but that joke wasn't funny the other five thousand times we've heard it, and it's not funny when you say it, you slobbering barrel of monkeys.

We understand that we have pretentious, stupid names for everything, but please specify some sort of drink size when you order. What's more, do your best to never, ever, EVER ask for a "regular" size beverage. Regular is all relative, and therefore there really is no such thing, you unbelievable cheesehead. It's also understandable that the word "macchiato" is sometimes confusing - but rather than leave it out completely, at least make an attempt to say it. It's alright if you mispronounce it like the hundreds of other blithering idiots that don't have above a third grade level of literary comprehension, but simply ordering a "tall caramel" isn't going to get you anywhere fast.

Forgive us if we seem to pause for a good two minutes after being asked, "So is the eggnog latte good?" You see, it takes time to use our mind-reading skills to scan your brain and probe your sense of taste enough to come up with a suitable answer to a pointless question, you complete jackoff.

Please don't break our door down in an attempt to get into the restroom. If it doesn't open the first five times you pull on it, it's not going to on the sixth, you bloated, smelly neanderthal.

If you order a mocha, please don't walk out the door with a latte. We work our lungs calling out the sophisticated and difficult to pronounce names of drinks not because it's fun, but so you can leave completely satisfied. We understand that you really can't tell the difference in taste anyhow, but it would benefit us greatly if you could do your best to remember what you paid for. If you can't remember something as simple as the drink you ordered, you probably shouldn't have left the mental hospital that you apparently wandered out of.

We appreciate the fact that none of you have anything better to do than to hang out in our café from dawn until midnight, but generally we like to leave after closing the store and we can't unless you get off of your asses and go home, you cracked-out, caffiene-saturated zombies.

And for the last time, there is no fucking "x" in "espresso," you miserable, fucked-up, uncultured rednecks.

Thank you very much for stopping by and have a nice day.

Sincerely,

Your Friendly Neighborhood Barista