Coffee

I was a Starbucks barista during the first five months of graduate school. I used to include the detail of coffee in my early poems, its smell was permeating my skin because I was around it so much--drinking it, grinding it, making it, serving it, cleaning it up. I can't believe I actually used to wake up at 3:30 a.m. or so on Saturday mornings to go to work. I can hardly put my contacts in that early. It was like being on Katie Couric's schedule, except getting paid only ten cents above minimum wage, standing all day, no prestige, same general outfit, and rarely would famous people come by to visit. Once some radio DJ's came by on a break from their morning show, that was sort of exciting. Of course, it doesn't take much to get excited when it's six in the morning and you've only had one customer in an hour.

I remember that "writers" would occasionally come in to do their reading, or would be tapping away at their laptops. They weren't famous writers, and none of my MFA friends. They were either pastors who were working on their sermon notes or writing non-fiction essays for magazine publication or something like that. There was also this really nice 50-something woman who told me about some of the fiction books she'd published. But she only came to Starbucks to read her morning paper. I think she lived alone, and this was a way for her to socialize. I had more fun talking to her while sweeping the floor on days she came.

Though I usually support local coffeehouses--like Rockwood Bakery or Lindaman's coffee bar, or a good drive-thru like Jacob's Java--I still go occasionally to Starbucks. The local one by my house is open every night until 10 pm, so it makes a great late-night reading place. And if I'm driving through Eastern WA, I know I can find good coffee at those few and far between Starbucks along I-90.

But for me, Starbucks has become like Wal-Mart...big, crowded, and invading every city...except, they are welcomed with open arms, they give their employees benefits, and other perks. It's a culture in itself, with a specialized language and code of conduct.

And it's not the most productive place to read/write for me. After about an hour, some of the baristas are a tad annoying. I can't help but start to listen to their petty talk and sorority-peppy voices. And I feel sorry for them in ways. I can empathize with them getting up so early to wear the white or black collared shirt, black or khaki pants, stand on their feet for 8 hours, clean up after people, and be perpetually cheerful to every customer who comes in. (I had to still go to work the same day my car was stolen...try that for a workout in phony cheerfulness!) But when I hear them discuss their grand plans for moving up in the company so someday they can be a store manager, regardless of what their current college course studies might be...well, I feel sad that they've been sucked into thinking this is all they can do, that is what they excel at. The green apron and stock options means they are truly valued.

So it was with enthusiastic interest that I read this article on msn today: Starbucks' genius blends community, caffeine The company knows that emotion, not logic, powers the decision to pay $3.22 for a double-tall latte, extra hot with a shot of sugar-free vanilla.

The author makes some good points and understands the slick machine that the Starbucks Corporation have made themselves into. I remember as a barista thinking it was pretty sad that some folks came everyday to get their fix, and was particularly disgusted by the sight of venti drinks. One man came through the drive-thru still in his pajamas to get six espresso drinks for his extended family who was back at his house (I think it must've been Thanksgiving). I remember telling him that we do sell espresso machines for the home. He seemed very interested, and it was obvious he was made to do this sbux errand by his wife.

So, in the words of a truly converted barista (and this was actually overheard coming from the mouth of one of my former sbux co-workers)..."Have a 'grande' day!"