I've always been secretly proud of the fact that the staff of my local Starbucks doesn't know me. See, if they don't recognize me when I come in, or have my order already started before I place it, that means I'm not the Starbucks equivalent of a crack ho. Right?
Well, that changed today. Aaron and I were standing in line and the place was packed, plus the drive-thru line was eight cars long (which is why we went inside). I was minding my own business, helping Aaron pick which cookie he wanted, when the barrista came by and said: "Grande Peppermint Mocha, right?" I was stunned, but not so stunned that I couldn't tell her to make it a venti instead (it's cold and sleeting outside).
So that's it. She may have had to ask for my name, but she knew my drink. I'm no longer a nameless, faceless coffee drinker. I'm a regular. An addict. A Starbucks ho. I'm not ashamed, though. I haven't yet started selling my body for a fix so it's all good.
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3 comments:
Welcome to my world! :D
My Peppermint Mocha is always ready for me when I get to the counter of the Starbucks near my office! Love it!!!
Of course, mine is *always venti....
We are so different. I *aspire to be a regular! At the bar, though. ;)
Stac
That means you and Meircee should get along just fine! :) She's a regular at her Starbucks AND her bar! LOL
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