This morning I stopped at the Starbucks in our office building, and the woman working the coffee machines began to take orders from people in line so she could start making the drinks while we waited to get to the cashier. From behind the coffee machine she started to ask me if I wanted an espresso drink, but when she peeked her head around and recognized me, she said, “Oh, you’re having a caramel frappuccino, yeah?” Hm. I’ve always said I want to be a regular at some joint where they’d know me and my usual order, but who knew it would be Starbucks?
Update (14:05): Now I’m off to yet another retail food hegemon, McDonald’s. Yeah, yeah, I know. Starbucks I can deal with, but god willing, McDonald’s will never become my Cheers. Scary thought. Hm, wait, you know what? I changed my mind. I think I’ll go instead to Jean’s, the mom-and-pop deli down the street. They have a good soup-and-sandwich deal. There, I feel better already.
7 replies on “The usual”
A blessing and a curse, eh? I agree–every barista at the ‘Bucks around the corner from my house has my drink down pat (grande non-fat, extra hot, coconut latte–obnoxious, I know). It also helps to have dated half of the staff. 😉 On the other hand I ventured down to Laguna Beach last weekend (my new hang), and when I approached the bar the bartender said, “Hey Paul, a chocolate martini or a dirty gin martini to start off?”–I stood horrified–and felt a creepy mixture of flattered and depressed. I chose the dirty martini. Extra dirty.
Yeah. Unfortunately, I’m a regular at Subway. What does the sandwich maker say when I enter? “Hey, tuna! How ya doin’?”
One of the things that amazed me on my recent trip to Austin was the lack of Starbucks, McDonald’s, and other symbols of the homogenization of our world. Everyone there goes to mom & pop hang outs, even the drug stores are blissfully devoid of the CVS logo. I have a feeling that the entire city has a place where someone knows their “usual.”
Art and I have a mom and pop spaghetti joint we’ve been going to since we began dating and the waitresses there always remember us. They remember that he’s the Coke, I’m the Pibb and that he’s the spaghetti while I’m the mostaccioli. I love it. We’re having our rehearsal dinner there.
Jeff, maybe should start cultivating that giant Redbox vending machine as your new hangout. Small talk can be so tedious…:)
ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh… caramel.
But I’m so glad you decided against Mickey D’s. I really don’t want to start looking for another bf just yet.
Jeff!! The update part of that was like a rollercoaster of emotions – first it was, “McDonald’s – Nooooooo!” and then, “Wait, it’s going to be alright!” and afterwards, “Whew, I knew he would do the right thing.” It really gets the heart racing. Or maybe I should just learn to read faster…