Friday, August 19, 2005
Oh, God, Another Starbucks Post
Thursday morning I was in a Starbucks, not the one I've written about before, sitting at a table close to the worker's station. I was enjoying my dark roast regular coffee in a feeble effort to make up for girly drinks of the past when I heard a girl tell a co-worker "Oh, no. Here comes 'Boobies.'"

I looked toward the door and saw THE ONE THEY CALL BOOBIES, or the two they call Boobies, whatever. She was the stereotypical Vegas broad. She was pushing fifty hard but still insisted on dressing like she's going to a casino-themed party at a sorority house. Her boobs were so big a moon was orbiting them, and they were so obviously fake they bordered on chest-parody. Her face had been lifted so many times her eyebrows were at her hairline. Her makeup was so thick and caked on she made Tammy Faye Baker look like a damn dirty hippie. Also, she walked like she had the Great Wall of China shoved up her ass.

"Good morning, ma'am," an unfortunate Starbucks employee said to the walking reminder to age gracefully. "What can we get started for you."

"Hhhhmmmmmmmmmmm," was the noise that came out of Boobies as she gazed upon the menu she had seen every single day of her life for the past eight fucking years. "I'll (long pause) have a (longer pause) latte with (long enough pause for me to complete a correspondence course in Norwegian literature)...Will you charge me for just a smiggen of hazelnut syrup?"

The employee sighed audibly. "We charge thirty cents for a syrup pump."

"Well, I don't want to become a diabetic," Boobies huffed. "I only want about a quarter of a pump."

"I have to charge you for a full pump, ma'am."

Full pump? Was I at a coffee shop or a whorehouse? Was this Starfucks? At that point I lost track of the exchange between the employee and disgruntled customer. I was momentarily distracted by the horrific sight of Ms. Boobies' nipples. They were huge, they were erect, they were wildly out of place. She must have gotten her tit job at Sears because her nips were on the sides of her breasts. One was pointing up, the other down. The tiny actor who played mini-me and I could have each suckled at a teet, that's how comically asymmetrical they were. Finally, I snapped myself out of the nip-haze and returned to the discourse.

"...and I want a tall(small) in a venti(large) cup," Boobies demanded.

Less than a minute later her order was ready. She looked at the cup and immediately went back to the front of the line, interrupting a lady who was ordering. "This cup is almost empty," she said.

The cashier could barely contain her disgust. "Ma'am, that's because you ordered a tall in a venti cup."

How fucking stupid was Boobies? The last face lift must have squeezed out some of her brain. You mean twelve ounces of beverage doesn't fill a twenty ounce cup? It looks empty, huh? And if I wore John Goodman's pants people would ask if I lost weight.

Why do stupid people descend upon me biblical-plague style like a swarm of locusts? You can't swing a dead whore in this town without smacking an anvil-dumb sack of pus across the face. I'm convinced all of the other town's stupid people move here, threatening to turn Las Vegas from Sin City to Moron Metropolis. In the immortal words of Chef from South Park, "All right, everyone line up so I can start kicking all of your asses!"


24 Comments:

Chest parody? Dead whore?

If I keep telling you how great you are, you're going to get all huffy and puffed up.

Blogger yournamehere said...

But I have so little else, Andi. Allow me to get all huffy and puffy.

Blogger Cladeedah said...

If I didn't live here, I wouldn't have believed that this actually happened. :-)

Blogger April said...

Sears huh i wonder if she has a payment plan on them lol

Blogger Melliferous Pants said...

The thing about plastic surgery that freaks me out is bodies that may never fully decompose. After we've been wiped out and the next round of idiots have a turn, they'll go nuts-o when they start finding all these weird body remnants buried in the ground. It will be chock-full of fossilized implants; breasts, calves and chins.

Blogger MoDigli said...

She's spent every last dime on all her precious plastic surgery that she now has to literally pinch pennies at Starbucks! Sheeeeesh!!!!

And the mini-me comment --- you CRACKED me up! (as usual!)

Blogger Kris said...

There is SO much goodness here. Where to begin? My personal fave: or the two they call Boobies, whatever.

That will make Friday all worth it.

Blogger IndependentGrl said...

Aside from the reckless and poorly created boobs, you don't go to Starbucks if you are a nickel and dimer. It reminds me of one of the girls who went to Vegas with me...she complained about not having money but drank Gucci Starbucks coffee EVERY morning. I wanted to tell her "stop going to Starbucks and you could be a millionaire".

Blogger Livia said...

And this is the #1 reason I dont go to Starbucks.

your story has reminded why i hate people and why i am glad to be unemployed. i can't stand annoying people like that. seriously. we all know how much coffee costs at starbucks. if you don't have the 30 cents for your hazelnut pump, then go to the gas station to get your coffee. i'm done ranting now. thanks for listening.

:)

Blogger Livia said...

Oh btw, I made a donation. Sorry its not much, but I hope it helps!!

Blogger Heather said...

Her boobs were so big a moon was orbiting them, and they were so obviously fake they bordered on chest-parody.

I so needed that this morning. Thank you.

Blogger Kristine said...

Man, I wish someone refered to me as "Boobies"...

I mean, they might already, but it might just be because they can't find them.

Blogger Egan said...

That's some great storytelling Todd. Thanks for the laughs this morning.

Blogger Pixel said...

I have always said that Wal-Mart, Starbucks, Disney and Microsoft will enact the final battle. Now, understanding what the employees go through a little more, I feel some affinty with Starfucks, as I will now forever call it.

Blogger Melody said...

Starfucks! Love it!

I was reading through your May archives this morning (your white trash cousin and her hapless children in particular) and laughed till I cried. Permission to quote and link?

Blogger lefty_grrrl said...

I'm in St. Louis, and we get customers like this. I think they just flock to large corporate coffee shops.

And many of them are like this lady, with the tall in a venti cup and the, "Please don't charge me for my syrup because I want you to risk losing your job so I can save enough money to have nipple realignment surgery."

Do us all a favor: Don't come through the doors if you're going to complain about prices - it is out of our control. And finally, don't get crappy plastic surgery if you don't want your nickname to be 'Boobies.'

Thank you.

Blogger Rachel said...

LOL, darlin' you made my day.


Have I told you yet today that you're adorable?

Blogger Crystal said...

Have you seen Tara Reid lately? Her boob job and belly lipo are just terrible, which is all the more to pity because she could have afforded better!

Blogger yournamehere said...

Melody, quote and link at will. I love to be quoted and linked.

Blogger Brookelina said...

South Florida....Vegas.....what's the difference?

Blogger Cincysundevil said...

I can never go to Vegas now for fear of running into Boobies at a bar wondering why the shot she ordered didn't fill the pint glass. The desciption of her boob job will no doubt leave me in a cold sweat tonite as I wonder which nipple is looking at me.

Blogger Ruben said...

"Boobie" was the pet name my brother had for his first wife. God how I hated that woman!

Blogger ginonymous said...

not that i'm proud of it, but was in walmart just this morning. and i saw what looked to be a mid-to-late fifties woman wearing camo capri pants, a sleeveless t that read "hottie" in glitter, and some sort of high-heeled abomination on her feet.

now while it's cute for moms and daughters to have the same outfit when the kid is like, oh, three, not so much when she's thirty. i actually had to fight to not point and laugh.

i'm no fashion plate, but luckily i've a tasteful roommate who won't let me leave the house dressed like a teenager.

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