Don’t piss off your local Starbucks barista, or your iced caramel macchiato will be crap. This can be avoided by not going to Starbucks ten minutes before they close. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve worked in several blue collar, low level, generally poopy jobs and I know how it feels to not have a customer in over an hour and to be just finishing your closing duties, glancing nervously at the door every other minute, praying that no one will come in and demand a service that will keep you any longer than you have to be. Really, I often go out of my way to not be that douchebag (my new favorite insult) that throws the wrench in the life of a night shift worker, but tonight, I had my heart set on getting a coffee and I thought the Starbucks I went to closed at 11:00. So I walked in at 9:50, confident and excited at the prospect of caffeinated caramelly goodness. When I sipped my coffee I knew right away something was wrong. See, the best part of the iced caramel macchiato is the caramel at the bottom. Basically if you position your straw right you can just suck up big old chunks of caramel and cold milk and this, as we all know, is orgasmic, to say the least. But not tonight. The barista had carelessly squirted my caramel on top so it virtually disappeared in a sea of bitter espresso. Grimacing, I glanced at the hours of business posted on the door, and to my chagrin, I saw that this particular Starbucks closes at 10:00 during the week.

Dude. I was a douchebag.

And the worst part is, as I was pulling out of the parking lot, some woman was
just getting out of her car and going into Starbucks.

Double douchebag.

I‘ve also decided to prepare my lunch the night before rather than rushing to do it in the morning. I avoided this for quite sometime so as to avoid that nasty mush you get when the mustard sits on the bread for too long in a sandwich. Tonight I realized I always put the mustard between two pieces of meat, so it never touches the bread anyway.

Blink blink.
Tilt head.
Insert “duh” here.
Proceed with making lunch ahead of time.

I was so jazzed about this “make your food ahead of time” concept that I decided, “why not prep breakfast too?” So I did. I chopped my mushrooms and put them in a little container and then went so far as to separate my eggs too. Egg-white omelettes are the best breakfast EVER, and I get juvenile delight from separating the yolk with my hands. Plus, you have to love the word albumen. Say it with me now: albumen.

Newest emission: I should not be allowed to blog late at night unless I have a clear intent or fantastic revelation regarding a particular topic. Or else you will end up reading spurts of consciousness (it’s not even a stream really) that, in retrospect, aren’t really that notable. They just make me look like a douchebag.