fear and loathing in starbucks

every morning on my way to work i get my boss coffee. (NOT usually at starbucks, but occasionally, only if i am feeling especially evil.) i hate getting the coffee for 5 reasons.

1) he likes it large, iced, with a frothy cap of whipped cream. Nobody ever understands “WHIPPED” cream and they give it to me bare, requiring that i sound bitchy while forced to scream, over the din of frothing milk, “no, WHIPPED cream – WHIPPED. With a DOME LID, if you have them.” this is usually met with a confused look, as though it is somehow abnormal to drink an enormous iced coffee in the dead of winter.

2) He requires 8 equals and 1/4 a canister of half & half in said coffee. not only is this disgusting in its purest sense, but i also spend several minutes coughing up Equal Dust after the dutiful preparation.

3) He gets a LARGE coffee. This means that it is usually larger than any other coffee i may be purchasing, causing an imbalance in the “convenient carry tray” and occasionally spilling 20 ounces of coffee with cream, and equal, and whip, over and underneath my lion-o floormats.

4) the smell in the car after 2 weeks of residual spilled coffee was absolutely repugnant.

5) This morning, carrying said large coffee back to car, the dome lid began to leak cream and caffiene all over my coat. on the way to work, it leaked all over my car. again.

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