Summer Sessions

(Or, ‘Help, make it stop, people keep talking about how they like it blended’)

 

Originally, today’s post was going to be about those people who pretend they come into the shop all the time, in order to convince you to give them free stuff. I was going to rant about how very unconvincing this all is.

 

However, something has happened. Spring has come.

Now don’t get me wrong, I love spring, it’s my favourite season. Nothing makes me happier than getting out of bed to see the sun shining, to see it’s light out when I have to walk to work at six am. Spring’s awesome, with the bunnies and the chicks and all that.

 

Except one thing. When the sun comes out, that means…Frappuccino season has returned. For those of you who don’t know, frappuccinos are drinks blended with ice, they’re like really cold milkshakes or smoothies. Except possibly with three hundred times the calories, and they taste like caffeine.

They’re exactly what you’re after on a warm day, something tasty and cold with a lot of whip cream on the top. Except that, once again, the ‘Me me me, I’m special, my drink choice defines my personality’ bastards have decided to make it painfully specific.

 

So we have the ‘I want a medium coffee frappuccino with a shot of espresso in it, but I want it separated into two small cups, with cream on each.’

Firstly, I’m aware that’s you, tricking me into giving you two drinks, by filling up the rest of the cup with twice as much whip. Fine whatever. Secondly, you’re doing this so you can give it to/share it with your children. Why, in the name of all that is holy and sane in this world, would you give your kid something with a shot of espresso? I suspect the women who come in and order this are not actually mothers, but ‘cool aunties’ who are now returning their charges to the actual parents. So when they go apeshit off caffeine and sugar, and decide running into walls and bouncing into the flatscreen is a good idea, the cool aunties don’t have to deal with it. At least that’s what I hope. Otherwise they’re just stupid.

 

There’s also the ‘how many calories are in that?’ ‘Can you make it skinny?’ ‘Can I have the low fat version with extra whip cream on top?’ and the ‘I want extra drizzle on top. No, more than that. More. As much as you can. No don’t bother with a lid. Can’t you make the drizzle in the shape of a smiley face? More drizzle, bitch. MORE.’

 

Are any of these requests particularly difficult or irritating? No, not really. But they’re not the problem. They’re gateway questions. They lead you in, and then you want more and more specifics until you’re proud until you can reel them off one after the other and the barista stares at you in horror. Like this guy:

‘I want a medium mocha light frappuccino in a large cup, only two pumps of mocha, an extra shot of decaf espresso and one pump of vanilla. And I want it double blended six times.’

 

‘Double blended’ is the ‘semi-dry’ of the warmer seasons. But that I mean, it drives me freaking crazy. It means you want it blended twice on the blender, because most people think that makes it thicker. It doesn’t. The pre-decided ratio of ice to liquid decides on whether it’s thicker. That’s physics and you’re a jackass.

 

So there’s a ‘1’ and ‘2’ button on the blender, I automatically press ‘2’, so that when someone decides after their drink is presented to them that they want it double blended, I can tell them it has been. It’s just easier. But this guy, this utterly specifics-dependent ‘I want what I want, aren’t I so freaking unique’ arsehole, has not allowed me to press the the ‘2’ button. So instead of pressing ‘2’ six times, I have to press ‘1’ twelve times. He wants it blended twelve times.

 

And then complains when he hasn’t got the puff to actually suck the damn thing up the straw. Which is strange, considering he’s so full of hot air.

 

So yeah, that’s double blended. Or deca-double blended? I don’t even know. All I know, is that if it’s a beautiful day, you should be outside, enjoying the sunshine. Not inside, torturing someone over something that doesn’t matter. It’s a drink, it’s not your personal epitaph. No-one’s going to think back when you’re dead and go ‘ah, remember how he used to like his frappuccinos double blended six times?’

The only person who may do that is me, and I’ll be thinking ‘Thank God that arsehole’s dead.’

 

 

 

 

Just a side note, if you’ve been on Facebook or Twitter, you’ll know I’m ‘performing’ some of the blog and generally moaning to an audience in Colindale at the Coffee Affair (4 Heritage Avenue NW9 5EN) on Thursday 7th April 2011. There will be writers, poets and little old me, ranting about coffee, and playing a special angry coffee song.  Starts at 18.00. All welcome!