Me vs. The Universe

closePlease note: This post was published over a year ago, so please be aware that its content may not be quite so accurate anymore. Also, the format of the site has changed since it was published, so please excuse any formatting issues.

The universe is conspiring against me.

I suppose it really is my fault for going to Starbucks in the first place. When a couple of my co-workers asked if I wanted anything, I said no, but decided to tag along anyway. When we got to Starbucks, the pastries all looked at me from behind the glass. I tried to ignore them, but they all looked so good (except for the Lemon Zucchini Loaf. I mean, yuck, right?). In the face of such temptation, I made a deal with myself. I could get a snack or a drink, but not both.

After briefly weighing my options, I decided that a drink could act as a snack, but a snack — that is, a pastry-type snack — couldn’t act as a drink. So drink it was.

If you’ll allow me a brief departure, the story will make a lot more sense later on.

When I was in Hawaii back in October, Morah and I met our photographer at a Starbucks. One of the employees there had invented a variation on the Green Tea Frappuccino that made it taste, more or less, like mint-chip ice cream. At the time, I didn’t have the presence of mind to ask how it was made (actually, I think I did ask, I just didn’t write it down or bother to remember). When we got back to the mainland, I found myself wanting one more and more, which led to a horribly failed experiment (a horribly failed Venti-sized experiment, no less). I finally came to the conclusion that the only way to satisfy my urge was to call up the Starbucks in Hawaii and ask for the recipe, which is as follows:

1 Green Tea Frappuccino

Substitute peppermint syrup for the melon syrup.

Add java chips (they’re sometimes known as mocha chips).

With the recipe in hand (well, in mind anyway; it’s pretty easy to remember), I was finally able to start ordering them at my local Starbucks. And I have been, pretty much every time we go (which isn’t as often as I’m making it sound). It’s such a unique drink, that about half the staff knows what it is, and I only have to start ordering it (or, in the case one guy, walk up to the counter) and they know what to do.

That brings us back to this morning’s adventure.

Part of my deal with myself was that, if I got a drink, it could only be a Tall. After all, I’m trying to cut down on my calorie consumption. I know, I shouldn’t have had it in the first place, but that’s why I think the universe is conspiring against me.

I was good (mostly). I ordered the Tall. I paid for the Tall. I waited patiently for my Tall to be made. Which is why I was so surprised when a Venti showed up at the drink pick-up counter. At first I thought, “Oh, a Venti, that must not be my drink, even though it looks exactly like it.” Then the barista rattled off the order.

Everyone nearby looked sort of nonplussed.

“Oh,” I thought, “A Venti.”

Most people would probably think, “I paid for a Tall but got a Venti? I’ll just keep my mouth shut and this can be how Starbucks pays me back for over-charging me for their coffee, which tastes like shit.”

All I thought was, “Shit.”

I know I said Tall, but perhaps she heard Venti (I do tend to mumble). Perhaps she gave me the larger drink on purpose as a friendly gesture. Or, since she’s one of the employees who is familiar with the drink, perhaps she went into auto-pilot and thought, “This guy always orders Venti Fraps.”

I don’t, by the way. I can’t remember the last time I actually ordered a Venti. Remember when I was telling you about the experiment gone wrong and how it was a Venti? I had ordered a tall.

In all honesty, I really didn’t want a Venti. A Grande wouldn’t have been so bad, but a Venti? I get a stomach ache just looking at one. How anyone can drink that much and not feel gross afterward is beyond me.

I could have pointed out her error, but the line was huge (and full of hot chicks, for some reason) and I didn’t want to waste other peoples’ time. Plus, I get the feeling that she would have let me keep the Venti anyway.

Was this some sort of punishment for ordering a drink being meted out by a cruel and vindictive universe? Is it just my bad luck that the one time I don’t want a gigantic drink, that’s when I get one (for free, no less)?

So I drank the stupid Frappuccino, and now I feel kind of sick. Perhaps I should have bought one of the pastries instead. And all this on the heels of yesterday’s post.

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  1. I almost always get a venti. With a pastry (muffin, brownie, etc.).

    Maybe this is why the baby weight is not coming off? (you THINK??)

  2. Phoenix

    Isn’t it frustrating when you get back more than you give? Awkward for everyone.

    This past weekend I went to Baskin-Robbins and paid with (the equivalent of) $100 and got back 10 (equivalent of) $10s as change. I had to find Kaori and have her translate the error so I could give 1 of the $10s back, which is apparently not the custom in Japan.

    One time I was shopping at 3am (back in the USA) and the all-night grocery was understaffed, and the guy accidentally didn’t charge me for my ice cream (ice cream! Again!) and I didn’t notice until I was in the parking lot. I ran back in and tried to explain, but he just sort of shrugged his shoulders. If I were the business owner, that would drive me crazy!

    (btw, “ordered had ordered”?)

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