Starbucks. I think we need an intervention. When it comes to the altruistic sounds that are heard playing above your patrons heads as they enjoy their coffee lattes. I felt as though I was in a manic state as the music switched from one ridiculous impaired bewailing to the next. I think I literally saw a tumbleweed cross our table when we sipped our mochachinos. Lest not leave out the excitement of the decibel level of said musical violation. Sarcasm. How loud does that damn music need to play? I couldn't even hear my own thoughts. I couldn't make an order at the counter without shouting and the barista looking at me like I was a light beacon attracting a moth. Let me share the emotional bedlam I so luckily endured. Road trip time.
The clatter switched to something reminiscent of a scene from Halloween. Um, is there someone hiding behind your coffee press there? Uh... Well until this creepy music ends, you might want to escort your lifelike, shade of milk-inspired, scream character away from the blades of that blender.... That's all I'm saying. I'd like to live through today's order thank you very much.
And as the buzz switches, a clown pops out from behind the stock room. Ah. Circus-themed music now. I think I'm catching on here. Sigh. God help me.
Oh hi Humphrey, where's Rita? Oh my bad, I thought we were in a classic film awaiting Sabrina's arrival to the dance. Oh no? Ok. I'll just hop on the Roman scooter and pretend I'm not a princess hiding from my duties then. Yes, all references from old movies. Keep up. This what I was dealing with... Feeling scattered yet? Welcome to my vanilla caramel macchiato nightmare.
Fantastic. Charo has entered the building. Nice fruit. Is that organic?
Oh, me salsa? I only like fresh and homemade. Thanks. But let's merengue! FML. Is that a conga line next to the Starbucks napkins?
And where are your cowgirl boots little lady? Uh, what? Oh, Clint Eastwood. Hey. What steed brought you in today's Starbucks in the valley.... Oh, right. The ever-so-subtle hillbilly musician playing the spoons. Gotcha.
I've had enough. Starbucks. I love coffee. And your coffee, it's great. But whoever is in charge of the manic music choices needs to take his or her meds. No offense to any real sufferers of mental illness-that's no laughing matter. But this guy with his hand on the dial needs a whack on the knuckles... And some riddlin. Oh and next time I'm here, please make sure all your associates know that "The Red Eye" is a real drink, on the really secret menu. I'm too caffeine deprived when I come in to explain this simple cup of heaven. Dark roast. Add one shot expresso. Voila. Thank you.
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