How To Stop Waiting For Your Damn Cream At Starbucks
Let’s set the scene. You swing by Starbucks to fuel up with a grande dark roast. Just a quick cup to caffeinate your engine and get on your way. The sullen cashier with the nose ring and turtle tattoo (on her neck) hands you your change. She suggests, next time, trying a smoked butterscotch latte with tapioca syrup and a shot of non-GMO paprika. You look at her and suggest, next time, she sober up before visiting a tattoo parlor.
You’re running late. You turn and make your way to the prep island. All you want is a splash of half and half, to smooth out your dark roast. It’ll only take a few seconds to get your cream and be on your way. But no. Not today.
Standing in front of you are two island hogs. Yes, it’s a harsh term. But selfish behavior calls for blunt language. You stand behind them and wait. The one on your right fiddles with the lid on her cup. She turns to her compatriot on the left. “Can you hand me the powdered cinnamon,” she asks. “The cinnamon soothes my digestion.” The gentleman on her left removes his earphones, sets down his newspaper and says “What?”
“I said, can you hand me the cinnamon powder. It helps with, you know, my bloating.” She pulls out her lipstick and starts smearing about. The man next to her pushes around the containers, hands her the cinnamon and says, “You look just like my aunt Ruth. Except without the nose mole.” The woman cackled hysterically. “Oh, you’re funny.” She doesn’t realize the man was serious.
You sense impatient people lining up around you, waiting for the prep island. Someone behind you says, “Excuse me, can you two hurry up.” The woman at the prep island sets down her large Coach purse and starts fishing inside. “I’m lactose intolerant. Without my pill it’s not pretty.” She giggles.
The man next to her is squeezing something. It looks like honey. He stops and turns to the woman. “My aunt Ruth used to be a man. Seriously. My therapist says that happens. You have to move past it. Except aunt Ruth never shaved her legs. You know? How do you get past that?” The man gazed at the woman.
The woman dropped her lemon scone on the floor. No doubt taken aback by the man’s strange banter about transgendered aunts.
“Oh my God”, you think. “Where do people like this come from? Hello, there are people waiting!” But it doesn’t matter. When you’re dealing with prep island hogs, you don’t matter. They’ll take as long as they want.
You remember reading about a guy in Detroit who got arrested for secretly licking the mixing sticks at prep islands inside several Starbucks. The dude said it was revenge against all the island hogs that made him late for work. It was disgusting. But you kind of understood. Selfish people can make good people snap.
Suddenly the guy behind you leans in, cups his hand to his mouth and says, “I’ve had enough of this. It’s time for the prep island agitator.” He unzips his jacket pocket and reaches in. “The prep island what?” you ask. And then the guy pulls this ugly ass, wet looking ball out of his pocket. The thing is malleable. He squeezes it and it sort of bubbles here and drips there. Looks like…well, like a big ball of snot.
Then the dude smiles and says, “I got it at Amazon. You’re gonna love this.” And with that he started to cough, almost violently. He snorted, cleared his throat and sounded like he was hacking something up. And with his last, ghastly cough, he tossed the ugly ball onto the counter of the prep island.
The woman at the prep island heard the thud, looked down and shrieked. The man behind stumbles forward, past you, still coughing. He slaps the back of the guy at the prep island and speaks.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry! It’s the hepatitis. I just keep coughing and can’t seem to keep the mucous down!”
The man at the prep island fainted. Right there on the spot. The woman grabbed her bag, dropped her drink and ran out of Starbucks screaming. Behind you, you hear everyone break into applause.
The dude picked up his “prep island agitator,” put a little cream in his coffee and strolled off. It was amazing. Cathartic. Something you’ll never forget.
If you’re tired of waiting for your damn cream at Starbucks, consider purchasing the prep island agitator. Because in a world of selfish prep island hogs, people need options that work.