Precursor to this story: A few days before the following story, my girlfriends and I had a funny conversation about how we’re all different Starbuck’s brews: Meredith is a nitro. Darcy is an Americano. Claire is a vanilla latte. Ally is an espresso. And, I am a dark roast. There was a lot of nipple talk following that…you know, about the size of them, the different shades of brown they are, blah blah blah…but, I’ll save that for another post.
Anyway, it’s Sunday morning and the clocks have all sprung ahead; so, we’ve all lost an hour of sleep. While most of the rest of the nation is taking it easy at home with the adjustment of this totally unnecessary tradition, I’m on the road at 7:30am with Maya and her friend, Meghan, heading into Boston to drop them off at the airport.
I decide to make a stop at Starbuck’s because I’m not handling the loss of sleep well, and pull into a completely empty store…aside from the one employee behind the counter. As soon as I walk in, I notice a sign propped up on the counter that says, “My name is Stephanie. I am decaf. Just wave me over if you need anything!”
Now, having just had this whole text chain with the girls about our brews, I’m like, ‘WOW, Stephanie’s decaf? I wonder if that means she’s kinda’ shy, or just super healthy…or, she’s just slow going this morning because of the time change. Regardless, I’m totally pumped that this is a thing, right? Like, I had no idea that everyone’s walking around just knowing what brew they are, like how people have spirit animals or dopplegangers. Actually, I don’t even know if any of that is like the brew thing, but I’m still walking up to the Order Here area now like this is the greatest day of my life.
It’s still really quiet in there because it’s just Stephanie behind the counter facing away from me while she’s cleaning blenders and things, so I’m sort of surprised that she isn’t coming over to take my order. So, I start going, “Helloooo? Ummm…DECAF…it’s me…DARK ROAST! Hahaha! Get it? Hahaha! My friends and I do the same thing! Hellooo? Decaf? I’m dark roast. Hellllooooo?” I’m also laughing out loud to myself thinking about all of the nipple comments and deciding on whether I’m going to tell Stephanie the whole story about the brew names and the nipples, or if that’s too much and I should stop at the brews. I’ll just read her out and see where it goes, I guess.
She’s still not acknowledging me at all, though. Which I did think was sort of weird, but I totally get like that sometimes when I just completely tune out and am on another planet while I’m doing busy work.
So, I go over to get closer to her and notice the sign again. Except this time, when I read it, I realize what it actually says as my entire body goes numb: “My name is Stephanie. I am DEAF….”
Just then, another employee walks out with a hugely confused and concerned look on his face, pauses for a painful 10-12 seconds while he stares blankly at me, and just says, “Can I help you?”
I, with my most endearing, friendly smile, say, “Ahhh, hellooo. Yes, I’d love a dark roast please and thank you so much.”
And, it was every drip as awkward as you’re imagining it right now.
See what I did there?
Wow.