Venti Sized A-hole

So this morning, I was running late for work. I'm seeing a friend tonight for dinner that I haven't seen in a year or so (she actually lives in Kansas City) and I wanted to make sure that my hair didn't look like I have been grooming it with a rake in the past year. Sometimes, that takes time. I'm just saying.

Anyway, even though I was running late, I was hungry. I decided to stop and get a Starbucks Iced Chai Tea because I wanted a bit of a splurge. Plus, it would tide me over until I got to work.

I go into Starbucks, which is attached to the building that we live in, and there is a douche canoe apparently working the register. We'll call him "Douchey."

Douchey is too busy doing something douchey (I don't remember what) to actually take my order at the time. So the barista (whom I LOVE but that's another story) turns to me and asks if she can get something started for me.

Bonus points go to me for not singing "Let's Get It Started" by the Black Eyed Peas at that moment.

And I freeze.

Because here's the thing. There is a super secret cadence that apparently only Starbucks people know when ordering drinks. You have to say the size, the type of drink, and then anything extra that is special. But whatever order I THINK I should put it in, is wrong.

In other words, somehow, like most things in my life, I always manage to fuck it up.

What I want is the biggie size iced chai tea latte. I want it made with non-fat milk (because I'm watching the lbs) and with less ice (because I'm cheap - I hate it when the cup is all ice at the end and you realize you didn't get a lot of the drink).

So I say, "I'd like a non-fat, light ice, venti chai tea latte, please."

She nods and starts making my drink.

I assume I ordered my drink in the right order.

I am happy.

The Douchey finally turns to me and asks me, "What do you want?"

Despite the friendly greeting, I give him the same verbiage I gave the barista - because I'm in happy mood...after all, I just got the ordering part right! YAY ME!

He looks at me and says, "So you want a venti, non-fat, light-ice, iced chai tea latte?"

Well, yes. That's what I ordered, isnt' it? No. It must not have been...or else Douchey wouldn't have corrected me.

So I have a light laugh and say something like, "Oh jeez. I thought I got the ordering part right, but I always mess it up!"

And he nods and then proceeds to give me the directions of how to order it, "You're supposed to give it to us in the order that we write the instructions down the side of the cup." And then he goes and gets a cup SO HE CAN SHOW ME HOW WRONG I WAS.

So I say, "Oh man! So now I have to memorize the side of the cup to order? I'm doomed!" again in a funny way so as to not threaten Douchey. I'm pretty sure there are a few rules in life that people should adhere to. And right next to "Nobody puts Baby in a corner!" and "Don't feed the lion" is "Don't threaten Douchey."

Anyway, he says, "Well, only if you want it prepared the way you want!"

So the barista says to me (as she hands my drink over and rolls her eyes at Douchey), "Or you can just remember that we get paid to understand what you want. Order it in any way you want and we'll get you taken care of. Have a great day!"

Did I mention I love her?