When people in front of me order their multi-syllabic drinks, I get Fuhrerious!
My order is one fucking word. COFFEE. Why do I have to wait for you to explain your drink?
It's not a drink, it's a goddamn dessert recipe. And a soliloquy.
A customer in front of me ordered the following "drink" (a real order):
Double Ristretto Venti Half-Soy Nonfat Decaf Organic Chocolate Brownie Iced Vanilla Double-Shot Gingerbread Frappuccino Extra Hot With Foam Whipped Cream Upside Down Double Blended, One Sweet’N Low and One Nutrasweet, and Ice…
Hey Shakespeare, the play is over.
Congratulations, you can recite the entire Dairy Queen menu.
First, you are a pussy and probably diabetic.
Second, you shouldn't get to speak anymore. You've said enough, and you are using my speaking time.
What really squeezed my scrotum was when the barista asked this person how their day was going.
Fucking NO. People who order this shit don't get to say another word. Five minute ordering time MAX. How Fuhrerious I am.
I think we know how their day is going. They are so comatose they need 20% of the world's sugar supply in their cup.
I thought War and Peace ran on, and then I heard this order.
Move along, Tolstoy.
Now you have the blood sugar of a cinnabon. Please proceed to the insulin factory right away.
Where's the social responsibility, Starbucks?
Look, I'm all for religious expression, but if your drink order takes longer to recite than the Lord's Prayer? I'm going for the confessional wine.
Starbucks needs an onsite drink editor.
"Sir, those 20 people behind you all have families, careers, debts to pay, fun to be done, just like you. So today you're having a half decaf hot water. Stop talking."
Das Fuhrer has spoken.
