Coffee Crotch

Between home and work there is one coffee chain Country Style that is notorious for having the second worst coffee in Toronto. Like my cave dwelling ancestors, I have adapted to my surroundings and every morning I stop at the Country Style located at the intersection of my very last bus transfer of the commute (of three buses and a subway) ten minutes away from my office.

Every morning I drag my Sasquatch body into Country Style and am greeted by the same chipper Indian coffee maiden behind the counter. She hands me my large coffee with milk, keeps the change, and draws three smiley faces on my lid. It’s a nice little routine: I’m always served first, and I never have to say more than “Good morning!” or “What? Sorry I didn’t catch that” or “How are your thirty sons named Pardeep?” or “Rain is the worst!“  or “No, really, I’m fine. I do not want to meet any of your sons, thanks!” and finally, “No, I’m not one of those women who is romantically involved with women -I’m just not… no, really I’m fine thank you for your concern”

I’ve gotten so used to my luxury experience at a crappy coffee chain that when I received a gift card for Starbucks during the holidays I got anxious about how to spend my ten whole dollars. I thought of the possibilities and, factoring in current season, began to research exactly what I would be pouring down my delicate throat hole. My Starbucks problem is that I can never remember what I ordered the previous time and I will certainly never customize my drink.

During my visits to Starbucks I always encounter the usual suspects:

The Elitist Coffee Dick
The ingredients and specifications listed in their order rival the items included in the atomic bomb

The Health Conscious Dick
Very similar to the coffee elitist except they sub out milk for soy, sugar for sweeteners, and whipped cream for air

The Overwhelmed Normie *
One who feels like a human upon entering Starbucks, and exulted upon leaving, as if liberated from a cult

*
This is where I fit

Here are step by step instructions for ordering your drink:

  • Stand back from the line and research your drink options. Don’t be that asshole who stands in the middle of the line umming and ahhing your way through your drink orders, or they will cast a spell on it
  • Look at their obscure selection of drink sizes in various languages and decide how much you would like to urinate within the next two hours
  • Stare straight into the eyes of your barista and state your drink
  • Leave a dime and nickel or three or they will 100% cast a spell on you (all baristas practice the dark art of Java Juju)
  • If they ask your name to label your cup, and your name is something stupid or complicated like Reginald, think of something like “Reg” or “R-Money” or “Beans” to avoid the confusion at the receiving end
  • Stand at the receiving end and listen for your name or complicated drink order
  • Hot drink? Prepare your java sleeve and lid
    Cold drink? Grab the corresponding straw -DO NOT grab a Venti straw for a Tall drink because you will look like a stupid idiot
  • Fast-walk out. You are no longer required to make eye contact with anyone while you’re carrying a Starbucks cup

I hope my instructions lead to a successful order at your neighborhood Starbucks, and may you not be poisoned or cursed by intimidating, tattooed Baristas.

  • Anastasia Beeverhousen

    I’ve read a lot of the articles here and think that most of them are funny. But, you guys are extremely racist. I don’t know if you realize it or hey, you might be doing it on purpose but it’s upsetting. Just thought I’d share that.

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