November 05, 2002

Starfucked

There is this woman who I have seen at the coffeshop every single time I have been in there over the last half-year that frightens me beyond belief. Here are the facts I have gathered about her private-investigator-style:

1. She is a nurse at a nearby hospital.
   
2. She is married.
   
3. She visits the place everyday, including the weekend.
4. She is there so frequently that she restocks the napkins and straws without asking the employees where the extras are in the storage room (which is behind the counter).
   
5. She talks to the employees by name and asks after their children.
   
6. She frequently compliments them on how they fix her drink (more in a moment about this travesty of self-control) the right way unlike the other shop that messes it up and tries to charge her extra.
   
7. She is a coffee whore.
   
8. She scares me.
   

Now, about her drink. She orders 2 very large frozen cappuccino drinks with extra caramel sauce and three shots of espresso. They are apparently both for her and she comes in at least once a day everyday because she knows the employees (dealers) work shifts ("Hi, Sandy, so you have started working Tuesday close, is that because you are taking that class in the morning this semester?"). Combined I would say these drinks are probably 80 ounces of caffeine milkshakes that have her kidneys the size of raisins (or marbilized watermelons) by the time she is done. To you non-users this is equivalent on the Berkeley Slow Self-Destruction Scale (TM) to six cups of coffee, two very large milkshakes, and three tablespoons of whip cream.

The people behind the counter fix her drink quickly (rule number one: do not keep the addict waiting) and avoid eye contact and participation in her smalltalk monologue. I think that they do this for fear of being caught fixing such a blatantly pornographic drink; "Perhaps this is a federal crime", they say to themselves as they rush through pouring nearly two blenders full of the brown goo into the bucket-like plastic cups, which strain under the weight of the extra sauce ("We were not designed for this level of density!" they scream). "I am so going to get fired for this shit", they say to themselves while using the napkin as a glove in a vain attempt to not get fingerprints on the cups.

The reason she scares me is not the fact that she is me taken to a logical extreme (I am currently a CHIT, Coffee-Whore in Training) but the fact that she has said repeatedly that this is the only strain she drinks and I know that they aren't open all the time. There have to be days when she doesn't quite make it in time, or they are closed unexpectedly and the coffee-whore goes on a massive violent rampage, running into grocery stores and snorting coffee grinds through a little red sifter all the while gasping for air screaming "Charge me extra for this, bitch!" through mouthfuls of coffee powder and foam.

November 5, 2002 02:05 AM