As a rule, I almost never buy coffee from shops. I like the coffee I make at home and feel that it is far superior to anything I can get anywhere else...besides that, I’m a cheapskate and believe that such expenditures are a waste. But driven by a lack of coffee beans, a certain urgency, and a gift card, I put on my flip-flops and headed out.Going to a starbucks in los feliz is like taking a trip back in time. Time seemed to stall somewhere around 1997-99. The line was long, and as a result my head was filled with the ridiculous starbucks lexicon. Words and product descriptions that should never pass the seal of any starbucks store. These people were far too familiar with starbucks speak and thus I felt intimidated and then ultimately antagonistic as a result. They were also in much more of a hurry than I.
The crowd of Hollywood assholes, cultural stalemates, and demanding empty-headed prima donnas were offset by the staff consisting entirely of young Latinas. I felt at ease with their condescending glares and obvious joy in denying patrons of unreasonable demand. And I believe there was a slight connection between us when I simply requested a “Large Coffee”. After procuring my “Large Coffee”, I rushed out, nearly knocking over a young lady with a retrofitted haircut.
Largely, this was not my fault. The slight nudge I gave her at the door was simply compounded by the gravitational effects in play due to the apparent disproportional weight scenario between her bag and her body.
I decided not to take a sip until I return home. To avoid spilling the coffee on the walk back I had to hold the 24 oz. Cup awkwardly out in the front of me. I passed by the usual cast of homeless on my normal path of alleyways and shortcuts home. I felt like a total asshole with my starbucks cup prominently displayed. Even more of an asshole than I normally feel like with my clean clothes and whatnot.
Now I’m drinking the coffee. It’s not that bad. I still have $3 left on the gift card.
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