the price is right, a-hole

A coffee at Starbucks does not cost five dollars. You can get a hot cup of coffee for under two bucks, actually, or a bit more if you want a venti, you glutton. If your drink is more than five dollars, it's because it's something ridiculous, like a quad venti breve white chocolate mocha. That is a meal in a cup, why the hell shouldn't it cost five bones?

Customers have ways to cheat the system, though, and it makes me really resentful when some cheapskate smugly asks if he can have his venti Frappuccino split into two cups, as opposed to just paying for two tall Frappuccinos. Like, "Oooooh, you clever little minx, you figured out a way to scam me out of that extra dollar something. Congratufuckinglations, shithead." Or people who try to order a kid's hot chocolate at full temperature. Guess what? If it's 170 degrees, it's a goddamn short HC, not a kid's. If you're old enough to have big kid drinks, you're old enough to pay big kid prices. And if I ever find the barista that sparked this whole chai steamed milk instead of a no water tazo chai thing, I'm going to punch them in the teeth. I really am.

Because customers don't figure out these little tricks on their own, it's baristas clueing them in. I don't know how many times I've explained to someone why I'm ringing in their drink the way that I am, only to have them say "But at the store I usually go to, they only charge me for a tall tea misto, because I don't want the extra tea bag in my venti drink," or whatever. Well, at this store, you're getting charged what I damn well charge you, and you can shove the extra tea bag up your ass, you entitled, snotty cow.

If you're too cheap to shell out some extra coin for your drink, go buy a two dollar latte from McDonald's.

at least i always know when he's coming

My dad has this pair of Edmonton Oilers track pants- and before I go on, if you think you're gonna come on here and tell me how much the Oilers suck, you can save your breath. I fucking know already, okay, so you'd better just shut up. Anyway, my sister gave them to him for Christmas or his birthday or something a few years ago. I'm pretty sure he forgot he still had them until she pointed out a few months ago that he never wore them anymore. Ever since then, he wears these stupid pants three, maybe four, times a week.

I should mention that my dad is a very restless person. Which wouldn't be a problem, but combine that with the fact that he has absolutely no hobbies, save watching Judge John Deed on BBC and asking me when I'm going to go back to school (NEVER, old man), it means that he kind of just wanders between the upstairs sitting room, the kitchen, and the downstairs TV room on a near-constant circuit until his shows are on.

In his track pants.

Fucking SWISH, SWISH, SWISH all goddamn day long is all I ever hear. I'm not kidding, I'm going to sneak those pants out of the laundry room one day, and set the fuckers on fire. There's no reason for someone who does nothing but shuffle around the house all the live long day to wear pants that aurally offensive.

kids today

I know this automatically qualifies me as old, and I'm okay with that: teenagers are fucking retarded. Okay, not all of them are. My sister is fifteen, and she would never use the Starbucks patio as a place to solicit weed, or get drunk in the bathroom, or scream conversations with her friends sitting right next to her, or spit all over the sidewalk, or spill popcorn all over the floor and laugh about it instead of cleaning it the hell up. Why? Because she wasn't raised by a gang of apes, and also, I would fucking kick her fucking ass.

What's the appeal of hanging out at Starbucks with twenty of your disgusting, greasy little friends? And why do you all need so much water? Do you just want to look cool, with your trendy little cups? Well, I'm sorry to tell you, but it only counts as cool if your drink is ultra-modded and costs at least 5 bucks (if you're the kind of douche that thinks drinking Starbucks makes you look cool, anyway). And is it so hard to not tear up your straw wrappers/movie tickets/napkins and litter them all over the floor? Or not yell curse words at the top of your lungs? Or just generally act like a goddamn civilized person, rather than a baboon recently introduced to society after years of living in the wild? Is that really too much to ask?

How to not get kicked out of a Starbucks:

1. Don't be a dumb motherfucker.

That's it. You'd be surprised at how many people can't handle that.