When I ask for soy milk in my coffee at Starbucks, the request is usually met with a look of disdain, the order repeated back to me with a disgusted intonation on the phrase “with soy.” Those hippy weirdos and their soy milk, they seem to say. Sometimes, however, the cashier looks at me as if I had asked for, oh, I don’t know, raw chicken livers to be added to my drink. Shock. Confusion. Horror. Concern.
On Tuesday, the ordering process went fairly smoothly, but then I had to wait for the drink to be made. It would all be so much easier if they kept the soy milk out on the counter with all the other milks, sweeteners, and such. But no. They hoard that shit behind the counter like it were liquid gold. So I have to wait for the barista to make my drink. This involves filling the cup (too full, usually) and then drizzling in a paltry few drops of soy milk (for which they charge me fifty cents extra). This time, though, a poorly made drink was not my problem. Instead, the drink was forgotten. I watched while latte after latte was given to its owner, no grande coffee with soy in sight.
When I finally asked about it, the guy behind the counter (baristo? Can I say “baristo”?) was all, “So, you just want, like, cold soy milk in here?”
“Yes. Just a coffee with soy.”
“Yes, just like a person would add cold milk into their coffee.”
“The only reason you have to make it is that you don’t put the soy milk out on the counter, so I have to ask you to add it for me.”
Oh, indeed. Isn’t this the most ridiculous thing, like, totally ever of all time? I argue that it is. Not only do I have to wait for them to prepare a drink that they shouldn’t have to make, but they do it poorly! If I am paying fifty cents for the soy milk, I want enough of it that it actually lightens the coffee perceptibly. I mean, really. I’m using what, one or two ounces? A latte of the same size would use at least ten ounces of soy milk. For which they would still only charge fifty cents extra. All the coffee shops in Oregon always had the soy milk out on the counter dammit! Why can’t you be more like Oregon?!
Oh right. I have to go to Starbucks here. Never had to resort to that out West. GRUMBLE.
But I digress. I didn’t mean to turn this into the Great Rant on the Cost of Soy Milk and the Dignity it Should Hold as a Beverage of Health and Sustainability. What I wanted to do was show you this:
The poor baristo (yes, let’s call him that) felt so bad about my wait that he gave me a venti coffee for the size of a grande! That is four additional ounces of precious, precious coffee. Let’s just say I was flying high after this! With exclamation points!
I zipped though my grading, foot jiggling up and down, knuckles cracking, heart racing. I felt amazing! So much coffee! Wheeeee! It reminded me of how much I loved coffee in general. Why don’t I drink more coffee, I asked myself. I should really have a few more cups per day, shouldn’t I? Think of the, um, health benefits! THINK OF THE JOY!
So it’s a good thing the water bottle cage on my bike happens to be the perfect size to hold my travel coffee mug.
After all, who needs water to hydrate with? Isn’t coffee brewed with water? I rest my case.