Light and hearty observations from a fat and ugly guy. Home of hackneyed drivel and ersatz-existentialist effluence. Choleric biliousness a specialty, since 1958.

Here's a tip for the "Barista"

A rant about coffee houses and the twerps working therein.

I love how Starbucks and Coffee Beanery and the like have taken college drop-outs who, completely addled without daddy's money paying for everything, now need some kind of a job--but nothing "beneath them", see, 'cause they've been raised to believe that every breath they take and every fart they make is so bloody special. Smartly, coffee places get these kids thinking they're some kind of pseudo "professional" by hiring them on, providing a crisply starched apron, and bestowing upon them the grand-sounding job title of "Barista".

Barista. From the Italian, meaning "vainglorious narcissistic douchebag with unreasonably inflated ego and overly developed sense of self esteem who pours coffee into cups for a living."

And the balls on these people! They--unbelievably--expect to be TIPPED (see point 4, here)! Last I went to McDonald's, I wasn't tipping. And near as I can tell, the skill-set McDonald's employees bring to the counter is about the same as that of the "Barista".

I actually do have a tip for Captain Coffee: get over yourself. As a "Barista", you're one step down from a deli worker, who at least has to make sandwiches in addition to getting the coffee. It's manual blue-collar labor, and there's nothing wrong that --it's completely honorable--unless you decide you want to pretend it's not. Then you cross the line and become a poser. Which these kids are: did you know that Starbucks actually provides them business cards? Sheesh.

Make mine a long black, with enough room for a heaping spoonful of "buff my scrotum."

posted by Nigel St.John Regina Smegmatica Howle-Raines @ 7:39 AM