Starbucks

I started my day with some Special K Red Berry cereal (at last!), and decided it might as well be a good day to make my first step into Starbucks. Until now, I had been an authentic madrilena, hopping around from cafe to cafe to sip my cafe con leche with friends at the bar. Today between classes, I longed for an oversized comfy chair, a cup of coffee that needs both hands just to hold, and the comfort of not appearing antisocial for drinking coffee with a book instead of a friend.

And like everything else I do (Cadiz, hiking trip...) it turned into an ordeal.

The menu looked relatively familiar and even refered to espresso as espresso and coffee as cafe. I had 2 hours to kill, so I decided on a great big coffee. The man took my order in line and asked for my name to write on the cup. I searched for a Spanish name to avoid trouble, but Bonnie came out instead (in case any friends from home are reading this-- good thing they didn't ask for my last name too--because saying Bonnie again would really sound strange). Actually, the guy didn't butcher it an call me 'Vooney" or ask me repeat it 30000 times. Good work Sr. Starbucks.

Too bad he wasn't working the cash register, too. I told the cashier I had ordered a cafe grande. She thought I said latte grande...? After an exhange taking entirely too long and passing through the menu from latte, to cafe con leche, and finally to americano, I paid for my "cafe". (in case any managers from Starbucks are reading-- either put americano as an option on the menu OR don't call your house blend coffee "cafe de casa".)

Then, I passed over to the pick-up area, and waited while others came up to get their drinks upon hearing their names. I finally heard "americano, which although isn't my birth name, it was comically fitting.

And of course, there was not one comfy chair left.

I learned a valuable lesson today- IF I ever go back to Starbucks, my name is Maria and Im ordering tea.