Nurse the Hate: Hate the Coffee House

Sometimes I feel like I just don’t fit in. I never have understood why club DJs say they are “playing” a club when, in fact, they spin someone else’s music on a sound system. I have never understood why people in the hip hop community think it’s cool to wear the price tags and brand stickers on their baseball caps. Or why these caps must be worn askew in some fashion. (I always knock off at least 15 points off someone’s potential IQ if I see them wearing a baseball cap with the bill turned sideways. Is this fair? Probably not, but I assume if you look like a slow witted little boy you should be treated as one.)

However, the biggest thing I just don’t understand is the behavior of the coffee server. Why is it that whatever coffee place I go to (Starbucks, Caribou, Arabica, etc), the same basic art damaged geek is standing there with drink in hand? They always look like they just picked their musty clothes off of the floor of their stinky apartment, put on their hemp pullover, and rode over on their ironic retro bike. Perhaps they left their girlfriend lounging in the funky smelling bed, arms behind her head smoking a clove cigarette. The smoke curls casting strange shadows on her ample armpit hair, as the sounds of a used Mercury Rev CD waft out of the stereo. That in and of itself is fine. We all need a scene. Maybe if I had made a wrong turn, that would be me in that stinky hoodie making you a double tall latte. Hey, I walk around in cowboy shirts for God’s sake. But why does it have to be such a production when the double espresso mochachino frappa mist vente is made?

“I GOTTA DOUBLE ESPRESSO MOCHACHINO FRAPPA MIST VENTE HERE!”, the excited employee screams across the tiny coffee shop. Why do they have to yell this out as if everyone wasn’t standing waiting for their order to come up? Clearly, it is one of the 3 people standing 36 inches away in the staging area awaiting their drink, no? Is it really necessary to scream this out proudly and defiantly as if saying “I HAVE JUST FUCKED YOUR SISTER LIKE A VIKING AS A SHOW OF DOMINANCE!”?

It’s all in the packaging of the job. I think the main issue is that the coffee “barrister” thinks they are of a higher order than the people doing basically the same thing at say, Subway. It is this pecking order that brings the artsy employee into the fold, where they look down at disdain at this menial task they have been forced to perform. “Yes my friend, I will give you this coffee, but remember, you would swoon if you saw me in the on campus performance of Equus at semester’s end!”

I hate the employees. I hate the Norah Jones music piped in from the sound system. I hate the ubiquitous sleeve tattoos on the sullen guys working in the back of the house. I hate the cute ethnic mixed CDs like “Sounds of Cuba” and “Salsa Party” that are nothing but cheap reissue packages from the depths of major label vaults. I hate the people sitting by themselves typing into their laptops. What, you don’t have coffee at home? Get your little muffin and get out of here… I hate that it’s a “vente” and not a “large”. Listen Fuck-O, you’re not in Florence, you’re in Strongsville. Make mine a large.

Random Notes: I love the Under 7 wins on the Browns. This team will be lucky to go 1-5 in their division. That means they have to go 6-4 against everyone else. Take the under and collect in time to pay off your Xmas bills…It seems impossible that the Chargers don't win the AFC West. That's a lock...I like Miami on the over 7 wins. The Public has decided the Dolphins are doomed. The Public, as we have seen time and time again, is always wrong. Take the over.