This piece originally appeared at Slackjaw on Medium here: I am the Suburban Woman Who Ordered on the Starbucks App, and You are All Beneath Me!
Fools in the Starbucks line hear me! See me! Remember this face, for it is the face of efficiency. It is the face of planning — of thinking ahead. It is the face of the woman who ordered her drink on the Starbucks App, and it is a face you will come to know all too well!
You will remember my face while in your cubicle, and you will wonder why you hadn’t the foresight to order on the app. You will see my face in your dreams and awaken in a cold sweat — heart pounding — to the reality of yet another sleepless night of disappointment and self-loathing. You will think back to the small talk forced upon you while waiting in line for your iced mocha and know that I spoke a word to no one — not even a thank you! Why? I don’t have to because I ordered on the app. I avoid all human contact, and you love me for it. Sometimes I enter through the exit just because I can — because it is closer to the end of the counter I need.
I am the smuggest person in the Starbucks, nay, possibly the smuggest person you’ve ever seen, and rightly so! I have prepared for this moment. I am confident. I will walk to the counter, touch every cup until I find the one with my name on it, take mine, and leave without a trace. You will long to be me, but you cannot. You lack the strength.
And what if my plan backfires, you ask? What if my drink is not ready when I enter? Well, God help the poor soul at the serving end of the counter. Will I yell? No. Cause a scene? Absolutely not. But I will strike with a look that could cut steel — melt lead — and the green-apron-clad victim will feel it in his or her core. Tears will flow like all earth’s rivers, for my look will say, “Your mother never loved you. She was training to be a dancer, and she was wonderful, talented. Then you came and took all that from her so that you can now fail at the one thing you are asked to do. She put her life on hold for you. Her dreams died the day she found out about you, and she resents you and what you’ve become. She always will. Now get my preordered beverage, or your suffering will cut as deep as the deepest seas. I did not order on the app to wait with the likes of you!”
The time has come. My toil has paid off. I have fought the good fight and finished the race, and my reward awaits. Now step aside, peasants. I, by the power of the Starbucks App, command you to part. I am Moses, and you are all the Red Sea! Now make way, for my time is valuable, and I have a Pure Barre class in Midtown at 10:30.