Minor in that it went by in the span of five minutes.
I was having a real time of it today, just in all and all bad day. While waiting for my next class, my blood sugar completely dropped out. I admit, I’m pushing myself a little hard on a diet. I thought I could get away with eating a lunch of two apples. I couldn’t. I went to the campus cafeteria and nothing really tripped my trigger enough, and it was over priced. So I forced myself, while feeling extremely faint, to the library, which was only a small distance away. They have a Starbucks there, and I remembered them having a small bake goods stand. That seems to sound good enough, so I make my way there. I’ve only been there once, and it was some time ago, to the point I couldn’t remember what I had.
I walk in, and the lady goes to take my order. I answer, “I’d like a small green tea frapp,”
before I can say anything more, I get a, “A what?! We don’t have that! We have *rattle rattle rattle.*!!!”
I mean, this woman went on, and she wouldn’t let me get a word in edge wise, and she’s like yelling at me as if I should know better, as if everyone in the student body of a medium sized university has been at this dinky little Starbucks. I couldn’t even understand all the drinks she was rattling off, she was going that fast. You know the sound Dino made in the Flintstones? That’s what it was like, only she was yelling it at me.
I finally get through with a, “THEN I would like an iced coffee. Small.” I’m just so off put that when she asks me if I want her to leave room for cream, I say no. I take soy in mine anyways, so I doubt they even had that and I didn’t feel like getting yelled at for that as well. Then she rings me up, without even asking if that was it. Extremely minor, I know. So then I say, “I wanted a bagel too, please,” and she practically rolls her eyes and goes, “WHAT KIND?!” To me there only looked to be one kind of bagel so I was like, “O_o?” and replied, “Whatever kind that’s in the case.”
Anyways, finally get wrung up, and victoriously. I pay, I sugar my coffee because I need the sugar, and I look to the trash can and oh god. . . It’s overflowing. The café isn’t even busy. I got served right away, there were two ‘Baristas,’ if you want to call them that, the one being the one that ‘served’ me. Why couldn’t someone take out the trash? Squiggle my nose, I leave and I start horking my coffee down.
Freaking stale coffee.