I love coffee as much as the next Seattle-ite, possible more. I'm not terribly picky; milk+coffee=love as far as I'm concerned (although throwing chocolate into the mix never hurt anyone). But some of these people, well, I'm embarrassed to say we share the same passion for coffee. The closest coffee shop to my office is a Starbucks (big surprise) that is built into the ground floor of another office building about two blocks away. The baristas are friendly and seem to know the regular customers by name. Again, nothing wrong with this picture. However, when orders start to include extreme specificity in latte temperatures, Huston, we have a problem.
"I'd like that 144.8 degrees, right on the nose." Um, if I was the barista I would have already thought up at least 144.8 different ways to get ride of this person.
"Remember George, I want it half and half." Lady, even decaf still has caffeine in it. Don't be a pussy, just get it regular.
"I've got the sprinkles ready!" As of yet, I've noticed no discernible difference to beverages with assorted chocolate, vanilla or cinnamon sprinkles on top. Okay so they look pretty, I guess I can give her some credit for that.