yes, i know it’s friday, and it’s sunny out and the birdies are tweeting and the pretty flowers are in bloom and we’re all young and beautiful and live in eden out here, and that’s fantastic, but i still have to fucking get to work. friday does something to californians. it kicks their efficiency switches down from ‘hey, no rush’ to ‘hey, there’s still at least 12 hours of daylight left, right?’. friday morning is definitely not the best time to be an impatient further-east-personality-type person trying to get a cup of decaffinated coffee, and not because you LIKE it.
those of us from places like chicago and cleveland and new york, im assuming, understand the purpose of a coffee stand, what it serves, how it serves it and, most importantly, what is expected of us, the customer. calfornians, not so much. i stood in line at a coffee stand (not shop, not cafe, coffee STAND, with stale, saran wrapped muffins in a basket next to the cash register) for about fifteen minutes this morning waiting for a fucking cup of decaf as a bunch of all-the-time-in-the-world half-wits hemmed and hawed about what to get on their bagels. most of them were not buying coffee.
the folks ahead of me in particular, stood in line for the same ten minutes i did, right next to the little menu sign nailed to the side of the coffee stand, talking about the wedding the went to over the weekend, how drunk they got at it, how drunk they got at their sisters wedding last year, how drunk they got at their best friend’s wedding a month ago, and how drunk they planned to get tonight. when they got up to the window to order? it went like this:
turd 1: “oh, hey. i’ll have a … uh … what kind are there … *checks sign he’s been standing next to for ten minutes* … a wheat bagel … no, wait, make that a poppyseed one with … uh … *checks sign again* … artichokes and hot peppers on one half, and on the other half … uh … *turns to turd 2* what do you want ?”
turd 2: “i dunno, what do they have ?”
the prince of peace himself would have bitch slapped them.
other people who had already ordered would get bitchy about the fact that their bagels all came with the wrong stupid shit on them. “this bagel has chive-horseradish cream cheese on it, and i ordered bleu!” to their credit, the extremely harried coffee stand workers would just stare them down, not saying anything but “plain. iss plain.” stubbornly holding out the bagel, until the complainer inevitably said “oh, fine. whatever.” and took the plain bagel, with plain cream cheese.
but here’s the point, california. a coffee stand serves coffee. and sometimes stale bagels with little packets of philadelphia that you have to spread yourself. and anyway, bagels are not supposed to wear cranberry compote or fois gras or wheatgrass or any of the other fucked up shit you seem to want to put on them. at a coffee stand? order a plain fucking bagel with some plain fucking cream chese, so i don’t have to stand behind you for an hour, waiting to order my cup of motherfucking decaf, spending my time pointlessly trying to beam my hatred into a cranium you clearly don’t have. seriously.
now can i PLEASE have my motherfucking DECAF already? i swear to GOD it’s in everyone’s best interests.