What does THIS say about me?
Every morning after dropping Bobbin off at daycare, on my way to work in the morning, I stop at the local Starbucks and get a tall, non-fat, no-whip peppermint hot chocolate. I've been doing it for a couple of years. Everyone in the shop knows me and they usually have my drink ready for me by the time I get to the cash register to pay. I don't even have to tell the cashier - he or she just knows what to ring up.
The only time that this routine falters is when there's a new barista at Starbucks. Whenever they train someone new, invariably for 2 weeks I can expect to get the hot chocolate without the peppermint; or get a peppermint mocha instead of a peppermint hot chocolate (that's actually the most common mistake; I can live with hot chocolate without peppermint although since I paid 30 cents for it I usually think I'm entitled to ask for them to make it right) or it's made with whole milk instead of non-fat, or it's oozing whip cream through the drink hole. Or they charge me too much or too little (yes, I'm *that* honest) because they ring in the wrong size or wrong syrup or wrong beverage.
Eventually though, after a couple of weeks of totally screwing it up, they catch on and it becomes smooth sailing again until the next new barista-in-training gets to serve me.
I think for the most part I handle the mistakes in stride. It's not life or death. It's not going to ruin my day. It's not worth me ruining their day. Sometimes though if it happens 4 or 5 days in a row with the same person each day, I am less than enthusiastic and may not smile when I say "thank you" after they remake my drink for the third time on that last day.
So I walked into my Starbucks friday morning, surveyed the all-vetran barista crew behind the counter, and stood in line waiting confidently waiting for my turn. When they finally got to me, the woman on the counter looked up and smiled and said "Tall, non-fat, no-whip peppermint hot chocolate?" and I smiled and said "Yes, thank you". And then she froze, and an a split second I could see her recall a memory of something and her face clouded, and then she burst into fits of giggles and said
"Oh my god, I'm sorry. And I probably shouldn't tell you, but I had a dream about you last night! The peppermint hot chocolate. Oh yeah... it was a 'work-mare' for sure!"
And then she flitted away to mark my beverage choices on a paper cup with her sharpie.
And I was left wondering just what impression I leave any number of strangers with as I pass through their lives buying groceries, pushing elevator buttons, pumping gas, getting lunch.
I can say with all honesty I've never had a dream that I remembered about my Starbucks barista. No matter how badly they screwed up my order that day.
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