Starbucks

I've been going to the
same Starbucks for
about three months now,
25-30 times per month.

The first month they pretended not to recognize me.

The second month they kept trying to guess what I wanted.

The third month, specifically today, July 23rd, 2009, I parked my car in the lot, walked in, and saw that the barista was finishing up preparing my standard tall iced latte without a word from me.

I guess I'm an official member of the starbucks club now. Total cost: just over $100.

Update:

I've been going to the same Starbucks for even longer now, almost every day. In a sense, it is my daily adventure on the cheap. Perhaps a dollar in gas, $3.81 for an iced tall latte paired with a reduced fat coffee cake, and a dollar left as tip. I can distinguish variations in the iced tall latte based on who made it, and can tell the time on shelf of the coffee cake by taste. I think it would be a good idea to go on vacation now.

Update September 9th, 2009:

Today my favorite French husband - American wife team was here when I walked in, along with my favorite barista team. The high point was when a friend of the couple walked in, ordered, and sat down with a burned up piece of bagel and a cup of coffee. The couple went over to investigate the reason behind the burned up bagel, to which the friend replied:

I don't like wonderbread, I like toast!

Update September 11th, 2009:

The stereotypical obese fourth grader showed up today with his attitude. He wanted a Venti and his mom decided to put her foot down.

Update November 13th, 2009:

I noticed today that I was gobbling the Starbucks cinnamon swirl coffee cake. The mechanics of the situation: a bite sized piece of cake on my fork was directed into my mouth by my hand. My tongue accepted the cake and immediately flicked it to the back of my mouth. I proceeded to suck it down my throat. As I was hungry today and the coffee cake was quite fresh I believe this behavior is excusable.

I realize that the daily trips to Starbucks are somewhat in line with the behavior of a yuppie or a metrosexual and my remarks on the experience are quite pompous, but as I mentioned earlier, the trips are really the only excitement I can get during the weekday and an hour of work is always completed in the process. I am also potentially exposing myself to H1N1 but I suppose it is worth it.

Update April 27th, 2010:

I help out at Pet Pals once a week, and this pushes my Starbucks trip to later in the evening. Starbucks in general is a very good public place to monitor police activities, and this evening's events prompts my notes here.

The evening started out with a college age guy coming in to say hello to his two female friends. He had called ahead to tell them he had a funny story, which happened to be a traffic ticket he had just received. He walked in and plopped the ticket on the table with a flourish. I couldn't help but listen: he had received the ticket on I-275 which is a somewhat rare ticketing area in St. Petersburg. The girls were making comments about how much his insurance would increase and what he would say in court. I couldn't help but inquire how fast he was going. "111 miles per hour", he responded. "Let me buy you a drink!" I said, because that's the gentlemanly thing to do when somebody gets caught going 46 miles per hour over the speed limit. I hope he is well funded, which appears to be the case as he was driving a Nissan 350Z.

The night was still young. Two jailbait aged girls walked in with another slightly older girl. The jailbait were trying to egg the older girl into coming outside and they were pointing at their chains. As we were not in New York City, I assumed they were kidding. However, they were serious! It was a boyfriend situation, and the older girl was seeking refuge at the Starbucks counter. The police were called, but not before a male yelled "bitch" in the door and one of the jailbait commented "pussy ass bitch". The latter comment was so out of place for this particular Starbucks or for human conversation in general that several Starbucks patrons erupted in laughter. Jailbait need to pick their audience a little better next time.

The latest police blitz aside from today's event was when four unmarked police cars from St. Petersburg's traffic crimes unit pulled up on the sidestreet visible from the big Starbucks windows. They surrounded a black Kia, which appeared to have just been purchased from a used car lot. It had a fake looking temporary licence plate, but the vehicle otherwise appeared to be recently detailed. Two women were quickly involved in an interrogation process with the police. One was handcuffed and put into a police car. The driver side of the Kia was searched. The other woman was interrogated further. Finally, a child was taken out of the back seat of the car and put into one of the police cruisers with one of the women. Needless to say, the nosey Starbucks clientele and chatty baristas monitored the entire situation.

Update July 29th, 2010:

I saw a burly man, about 30 years old with plenty of prison tattoos, sitting outside drinking his beverage. Suddenly the man stood up and started shaking and brushing himself off in a pretty aggressive manner. Me and the businessman sitting nearby determined that a large Florida grasshopper had just landed on him. I suppose even burly men get scared.

Is the standard male reaction to a large insect to scream, dance, and then violently kill the insect? Is the standard female reaction to a large insect to scream and remain shaken up for the rest of the day? Reengineered question: Why do boys like trucks?