86/100 Emotional stages of giving into a Starbucks cup
We went into this yellow-lit grandeur of a coffee shop. The pleasant greeting of the girl at the counter convinced me to carve out a curve on a straight lip. Two seconds in, seeing only few people in line, the smell of fresh roast circulated in the room mixed with that of milk, cocoa, wheat, and diabetes.
I looked up with a foreseen reaction to the prices. I forgot my antihistamine. Almost two hundred pesos for a cup of what I could have for only twenty if I were at the office pantry. The handwritten menu at the counter most likely added to the value; giving me a feel of entering some random artisan’s pod. “Craft” is the word. Many are using this term to cover up for their watered-down creations.
I waited for my name to be mispronounced. How difficult was it to write Mac and not Mae, to think that I paid enough for them to do their job? And why do the ‘tall’ and the ‘grande’ cups sound bigger but are physically smaller than a ‘venti’? I hate the feeling of uttering these adjectives and ending up having the smaller cup. Haven’t they heard of mental models? What a bunch of elitists.
I sat on the corner with a friend. We were against a white brick wall that was pleasant to look at. On the other side of the wall were pictures of coffee beans — almost reminding us that we’re on a coffee shop — as if drinking our orders wasn’t already freaking evident. But to their merit, they’re nicely photographed, so okay!
After some chatter I realized we poured more ideas into the conversation than we usually do. Now I’m wondering if that’s just the decals working. And if every order accounts to some quintessential idea, I would have ordered an effin bagel!
We eventually ended up eavesdropping. For those who listened, the noise came in layers. I’ve found it true that the best inspiration for writing dialogues is by hearing real people speak. They got a lot of that here: professionals, college students, artists, and of course, we shall never forget the sapiosexuals.
By now I may have convinced myself that the price I paid wasn’t for the coffee alone, but for the perks that went with it. Heck it made me reach my 86th entry. I think I got out there owing them far more than I paid, far more than their stickers would get me their overrated planner.