Starsucks

     Starbucks as a potential form of alien currency?  Big fan--think one of those huge fans that you can't help but to scream "Luke, I am your father" into.  Starbucks as a coffee company?  Complete opposite of fan--think like Bruce Jenner's earring or Lindsay Lohan's line of coke or the water that you run over your ring pop to make it taste better.  And it's okay if none of that made any sense to you because I'm not really sure either.

       The Starbucks Christmas cup recently came out, and as a female I feel morally obligated to tweet about it and Instagram pictures of me pushing it in a tiny stroller.  I don't like Starbucks or should I say Starsucks (pretend it's creative guys). Why, you ask? Oh, you didn't ask? I'll tell you anyway you goober, I mean you've gotten this far and all:

   1.  Small, medium, and large.  Large, medium, and small.  These three sizes have been the standard since Jesus (haha not true at all, but a very very long time).  I like small, medium, and large.  I'm comfortable with small, medium, and large.  Okay, fast food chains have had variations of those sizes in the past i.e. mighty kids meals and kids meals and that "super size" nonsense and biggie and great biggie (by the way never tweet a photo of a biggie fry on the anniversary of Notorious B.I.G.'s death because no one will favorite it or RT it--you have been warned).  Back to Starbucks.  What's this tall, grande, venti jazz?  I shouldn't be made to feel like a fool when I say small, ya know?

  2.  Why is everyone inside of Starbucks so much cooler than me?  Like cute little hipster couples with your cute little matching macs and cute little hipster glasses with your cute little hipster flannels, can I borrow your coolness?  I'll trade you a red L.L. Bean backpack with matching red hit clip for, like, 5 cool points.  I call these Starbucks regulars "cof-fiends" because they're like little evil demon creatures that give you a nasty look for ordering a hot chocolate in July.

  3.  Too many flavors, too many different items, and not enough cliffs nearby that us indecisive people can swan dive off of to put ourselves out of our misery.  I don't know about you guys, but I love making decisions probably as much as Smarterchild loves getting replaced by Siri.

    What's this coffee business?  Latte? Espresso? Macchiato? Cappucino?  Starbucks has tea?  Is that allowed?  I can get my coffee iced?  Should I get a vanilla iced coffee and tell the barista that it tastes "nice nice baby" and then nervously snort into my drink?  Why did I dance around my room with that life-sized barbie?  Will I ever learn how to braid?  Why is the life-span of that zebra rainbow-striped gum shorter than the infant in front of me? (These are all the thoughts that finger-dance through my head while in the Starbucks line).

     If you've ever seen a dog try and get peanut butter off its nose then you've seen me try to order a drink from the barista.  I usually make my friend go first, and then I mumble "I'll have what she's having" while cart-wheeling away.

   4.  Wait, I lied, I don't hate EVERYTHING about Starbucks.  I love that I can give the barista any name I want.  Kara, Melanie, Trisha, Mackenzie, David, Cher, Bon Iver, the undertaker, etc.  I mean I  usually just stick with my own God-given name, BUT it's cool to know I have options.

   5.  Christmas blend, huh?  The Christmas blend I had tasted nothing like my feigned interest in the collector's coins that my uncle gets me every year.

    6.  Crap, I lied again.  I love the little green mini jousting sticks that you put inside the coffee so it doesn't spill.  I picture little elves fighting each other to the death with those lances and I get the biggest, goofiest smile on my face and I swear I'm normal.

   7.  Maybe it's the lighting or the intimacy of the tiny tables, but when a friend wants to meet at Starbucks, I know some serious conversation is about to go down.  I can be serious, but I'd rather not SO why can't we discuss your recent break-up at a McDonalds where I can at least be distracted by the little children banging on the windows of the playland and the vanilla ice cream cone dripping down my hand?  I bet you guys love my run-on sentences, by the way.

     Let's just say that my first instinct when someone wants to meet at a Starbucks is to cut off my finger and tape it to my forehead and neigh like a unicorn until my friend checks me into the closest psych ward.  Starbucks and I go together like Hilary Duff and Lindsay Lohan circa 2003, so take that for what it is.

  Peace, love, and beat Michigan,

 Awkward Girl