There’s something I’ve been trying to do for several years, but
I haven’t had the courage. And then, a while ago, I came across an
article on the Web and noticed it was so simple that a monkey did
it.
There’s something I’ve been trying to do for several years, but I haven’t had the courage. And then, a while ago, I came across an article on the Web and noticed it was so simple that a monkey did it.
And no, it doesn’t involve throwing something from my cage at tourists. And to be perfectly accurate, it wasn’t a monkey that did it; it was a bonobo, which is one of the four great ape species. But what that bonobo did was to inspire me to venture out of my comfort zone and do the one thing I have always wanted to do.
She ordered a caramel macchiato. With foam.
Unlike the ape, I do not order caramel macchiatos. For one thing, I don’t have a dang clue how to pronounce the word “macchiato.” For another thing, I don’t speak Starbucks, which appears to be a mixture of Italian and English – two languages I have never mastered.
So ordering a coffee at Starbucks isn’t an option for me. Because frankly, even if I could get past the whole language barrier, there’s an entire art to ordering that has to do with what you order and in what order you actually say your order. And if that sentence confused you, imagine how my head feels right now.
Look, if how you order isn’t bad enough, there’s that whole tall, grande, venti thing. I mean, give me a break. Whatever happened to small, medium and large? For hundreds of years, that’s how we ordered coffee. If you wanted a small cup, you ordered a small. If you wanted a huge cup of coffee guaranteed to keep you awake for a week, you ordered a large. And then along comes Starbucks and their dang ventis and I have no idea what I’m ordering.
And what’s the deal with making a tall a small? Look, I’m what people call “petite.” Because of that, I shop in the petite section of most stores. I don’t shop in the tall section and hope that people will suddenly believe that short is the new tall.
And if short is tall and medium is grande, does that mean that tall men are venti? So now do tall men shop at the “Big and Venti” store? Or, in Starbucks-speak, do tall men shop at the “Grande and Venti” store?
And if the whole size thing wasn’t an issue, there’s the milk. Honestly, whatever happened to plain old milk? There’s like a billion different milks at Starbucks. There’s even something called “breve” which I can’t pronounce and which turns out to be like a half and half which I never drink at all because I’ve never figured out what the halves really are. Is it half milk, half cream? Or half 2 percent, half nonfat?
And then there are lattes and au laits and Americanos and good Lord, is it any wonder I’m afraid to order? I don’t know what this stuff is. Well, that’s not true, I do sort of know. But who can be sure? Look, in the real world outside Starbucks, a tall is a small, so a latte could be anything. And frankly, that whole Americano thing just confuses me. Apparently, an Americano is a shot of espresso watered down until it reaches the strength of regular coffee. Hello. Is it just me, or could we make this whole coffee thing really simple by just calling it a cup of coffee instead of an Americano?
And now that we’re onto coffees, apparently there are several different types. There’s mild, bold and, heck, I don’t know, maybe blow-your-head-off–and-wake-you-up, which is probably espresso. What ever happened to Folgers? With Folgers, you just poured it out of the can and perked it. It wasn’t mild or bold or anything other than Folgers.
But if an ape can master the art of ordering, so can I. So I did. I went in and I ordered from Starbucks. Well, okay, I’ll be honest. I didn’t order coffee. It’s too intimidating. So I ordered tea. A chai tea. With nonfat milk.
And of course, despite all my research, I mispronounced “chai,” didn’t abbreviate nonfat milk, couldn’t remember what tall meant and said the entire thing in the wrong order. But fortunately, the barista (which is Starbucks for “teenager who makes coffee, takes money and manages to act insufferably superior while doing so”) corrected me so that next time I’d order correctly.
Fat chance. Or, as they say in Starbucks-speak “grande chancio.”
