Dear Starbucks Barista:

Dear Starbucks Barista:

When I smiled at you over the cash register and gave you my drink order (along with an impulsive pastry purchase), I was honored that you asked what church I attend because you recognized that I always wear dresses when I drop in to work on my writing. You told me that you’re Pentecostal Apostolic too. How cool is that?!

When I sat down and told my husband about our chat, he mentioned that the two of you have talked several times already about his favorite college football team: Ohio State Buckeyes (How did I miss these conversations?). I just died laughing when you walked over to our table a few minutes later and informed my husband that you should start calling him “Brother Buckeye.” I didn’t get much writing done tonight but it was worth it.

I have to ask though. 

How do you manage to keep smiling when someone glides up to your register and orders a trenta, half skim milk, half soy milk, split quad shots, no foam latte with whip, two Splendas, two pumps of vanilla, and cinnamon sprinkled on top? I mean, will they even notice that half the milk isn’t soy?

I applaud you. You have to possess special patience to be a barista.

Maybe it’s the soothing, rich aroma of fresh java floating around you that keeps you so calm and pleasant. It would definitely have that effect on me. I’m always snatching the nearest bag of coffee from the display and trying to sniff it through the foil packaging. That’s how much I love coffee. Maybe I should consider becoming a barista…

Oh, and I bet you already knew that it’s a common belief that you can judge someone’s personality based on how they take their coffee! I even wrote a whole blog post about it here.

When you started mopping the floors tonight, I realized that you were getting ready to close. Walking across your freshly-mopped floor, (sorry about that), I peeked once more at the sugar cookies in the display case. That’s when she walked up to the counter…the other superstar barista working with you tonight. 

“Would you like a free pumpkin spice bread?” she asked, reaching into the display case and tucking a large piece into a tidy little brown bag.

Did I mention how amazing the baristas at my local Starbucks are? Yeah, well, there it is again.

I was so impressed that I even left my own sticky note on the appreciation display your customers created since, apparently, they think you’re awesome too.

See you again next weekend!

Regina