Monday, October 02, 2006

The Happiest Woman in All the Land When Starbucks opened their first drive-through store here, I was totally dismissive. And why wouldn't I be? How lazy do you have to be, to not park your car, walk the twenty feet to the counter, and order your drink from a real human being? It's a cup of coffee. It's not dinner. That, I can totally understand rushing, it seems. But coffee is... well, it's like going through a McDonalds drive-through and ordering just a medium Coke. Who does that? Well. I still don't know who does that. But I no longer dismiss the Starbucks drive-through with a snotty glare. In fact I stop by them fairly often, on my way to this or from that. Like yesterday, on my dinner break. I pulled up to the menu, and waited for a moment by the little kiosk that proudly stated "ORDER HERE", underneath a gleaming LCD monitor that displayed warm pictures of mochas and scones. I waited for perhaps five seconds. Then there was a click, and the speaker hidden in the kiosk began broadcasting the sounds of steaming things and grinding things and other sounds of coffee-related industry. That, and the single most energetically cheerful woman ever to walk the earth; who, as it happens, works for Starbucks. Bet you didn't know that. "HitherethanksforchoosingStarbucksHOWAREYOUTODAY?" A bracing blast of female friendliness exploded from the little brown kiosk and rocked my car sideways on its suspension. It was lovely, of course. Extremely welcoming. But holy cow, it was INTENSE. I just stared for a moment, in shock, then got it together. "Uh, I'm good. Thank you." I tried to sound REALLY HAPPY, in a reflexive attempt to match her energy level, which of course was impossible; I was pretty sure I'd just come across as mocking. I was a little afraid of the Most Cheerful Woman in the World, but I didn't want to mock her. So I added, "How are you?" and flinched just a little, anticipating the response. "I am AWESOME, thank you SO MUCH for asking! It's a BEAUTIFUL day. What can I get for you?" This blew my hair back and shattered the passenger side window with joy. "Just a grande coffee, please." "Great! Any cream or sugar in that for you today, sir?" Do you remember that old ad for I forget what, the black-and-white shot of the guy sitting in a big gigantic chair with a big gigantic speaker in front of him, and everything in his room was caught in a frozen in the act of getting blown away by the sound? The guy's hair was blowing back, his tie was whipping over his shoulder, the glass of water was falling over, and I think there was a cat flying through the air, unless I'm making that part up. That was me, in my car. Oh, wait. She asked me a question. "No, thanks. Just black." "WOW, okay then! You got it! Anything else for you today?" "No, that's it!" Now I was getting into it. She was obviously impressed by my choice of black coffee. And why not? It's a strong choice. I am a strong man. "All right, sir, that will be one-seventy, just roll on up to the window and we'll take care of you! Thank you SO MUCH for stopping by!" And the little speaker clicked off, and the chipperest girl in the world vanished. Now I was really curious to see what she looked like. Hillary Duff, I thought. She looks like Hillary Duff. Or maybe Lindsay Lohan. I pulled forward, all full of joy and excitement and self-confidence and curiosity to see which pop teen princess she most resembled. My car turned the corner, pulled up to the window, and slowed to a stop. I turned toward the drive-through window, which was, of course, tinted, and virtually opaque in the late afternoon sun. I sat there, idling. The drive-through window reflected mostly me, and the top of my car, and the building opposite; but you could see faint shadows hurrying about, somewhere deep in the coffee shop, steaming things furiously. The window popped open abruptly. And the chipperest woman in the world looked like... a tall black man. I blinked. Never before has Hillary Duff changed so quickly into Ving Rhames. "Hello, sir, that will be a dollar seventy." He had a deeply sonorous baritone. I handed him two dollars, and he instantly reappeared with change and the coffee. "Have a nice day," he intoned, and the window slid closed. This is kind of a fun game. I think I will go to that Starbucks drive-through a lot more often. 12:38:31 PM    comment []