I walk in and lay down my passport... they look up at me and blurt something in a language I don't quite understand... I lean in feeling really really dumb and say "what? huh?". I'm not at the airport though, or another country for that matter... or am I? I'm at starbucks. Grande what? frappe what? oh god, oh DEAR GOD!? My passport is denied, I'm deported. But pleeeaaasseee I plead... I just want some coffee... for the love of... pleeeaaasseee!
Outside I sit back and turn to my one and only Starbucks interpreter, Jax from Hand of Bela Peck a.k.a one of my besties... a.k.a genius... a.k.a speaks star-buck-a-neez.
"I want something frozen and tasty, what the hell do I say? Help!"... I text. Moments later I get Grande Chocolate Chip Frappe. Um... ok... good thing I trust Jax cause damn I could be ordering a, well, what the FRECK is a frappe. I mean I get the F... that means frozen I bet... but the second part, rappe? reminds me of crappy. Oh this can't be good. I feel like a virgin standing against the wall at the prom wondering if this is THE night except it's THE day and I'm about to pop my frappe cherry. Whatever a frappe may be that is.
Passport? I lay it down... they look up and this time and give me a wee bit of stink eye. The smell of coffee tempts me, draws me in... I swear I smell subliminal messages on the air but I can't be sure. This place is like another country. Everyone speaking a different language. Grande? Frappe? Mocha? Latte? I'm in over my head and it's evident by the amount of sweat that's beading up on my nose. Because that's where I sweat... on my nose. Don't ask, it's an Ashlie thing.
I blurt out the text from Jax that I have rehearsed maybe half a million times in this 2 minute window. They buy it, hook line and creamer. Phew! I wipe my nose and patiently wait for my hoozy-whats-it? It appears and I ask if this is the grande as it more resembles a paquito... oh wait that's spanish, they speak Star-buck-aneez. I smile, grab a straw, sink it in, and ponder what a small would look like. Would it be a shot glass? pixie sized brew? I'm unsure, and think I better get the hell out of here before they realize I'm not one of them. It's evident that these people are... hipsters. It is evident that even if they aren't they are dressing the part simply to be in this foreign alien nation type place.
Upon first sip it's like a little slice of frozen heaven. It's chocolaty, coffee-ee, it's frozen, blended with ice and has a heaping pile of whipped cream that I think they put in just to take up extra room in the cup. Clever... I'm on to you Starbucks. Then the brain freeze hits. How the #$%@ did this one drink give me brain freeze so fast!? I lean back in a ice infused confusion. What do they have in there, super ice?
I know it's right time for an interview...
Me: Jax, when did you start your Starbucks addiction? do you need an intervention?
Jax: My coffee addiction started years ago, some office friends drew me in with the convience Starbucks offered... I tried other coffee joints but being independent closed on me making me return.
Me: Ah I see... peer pressure! How long did it take you to learn the Star-buck-aneez language?
Jax: I stuck to a regular coffee I could remember then I eased in to more complex language skills. I'm a regular now, by the time I get to the front of the line they have already entered my coffee and I don't have to say a thing. On the weekends I work with poor children who will one day become Starbucks hipster cashiers, it acclimates them into society and gives them a purpose, lifes calling if you will.
Me: Do you think there are subliminal messages laced within the actual drinks?
Jax: I'm quite sure of it... I think it sounds like mexicans and they are convincing me to pay too much for tiny sized coffee cups. (she lives in Texas btw... we aren't being racist, it's the population)
Me: Um... Jax I'm unsure why mexicans would want you to buy small coffee for big prices... I don't think I can even write "mexicans" on my blog, it might upset somone.
Jax: LMAO you may supplement with _____ and _____.
Me: *Rolls on floor laughing*
Jax: ______ also works.
Me: Yeah um well moving on... so... lastly... If Starbucks closed do you think you would have to seek Starbucks rehab, complete with caffeine drip?
Jax: Nah, it would probably be good for me... I would save a lot of $ and I would use my own cappuccino maker.
Me: Well said... well said... well let me know if you need an intervention, k?
Jax: Pinky Swear
So yeah, yesterday I lost my frappe virginity... it's not a milkshake, there wasn't a cherry. I'll probably go back for more. Not sure... Starbucks makes me feel like the dumbest person on earth, but I like what they have to offer and the promise of pumpkin spice seems alluring.