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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | I sat in my chair eying the drink I had not ordered, but I had to forgive the mistake as I choked back tears. In the soul crushing realization that "The Animal" Dave Batista was reduced to serving at Starbucks. It had not been so long ago that he was part of Evolution with Triple H and the Nature Boy Rick Flair. Now I look upon this once veritable mass of fury as he quietly slinks behind the counter to his dark fall from the public eye. A single tear drops from my cheek. | The Batista handed me my drink stone faced. She knew my mother died drinking a Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy because she was the one who served it to her. Why must you be so good, Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy, WHY!?!?! |
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | I shuffled away from the funeral, sniffling and trying to dry my eyes. Every Sunday, for the past ten years, I had gone to the home where my thankless and thoughtless parents had left my grandfather, and picked him up. I didn't always have gas money, and more than once I tried to hide my embarrassment when I saw him looking at my change engine light.
"Donny," he would say, "let me get this." And I would let him. I think it made him feel good, to be able to buy me the coffee I wanted. We would sit, him with his cup of straight black coffee, and me with my Cafe Vanilla Light Frappucino, with no fat milk, and talk about our lives. He had the best stories. Sometimes our barista would sit down and have a chat with us. Gramps would flirt with her, and she would humor him. The halcyon days.
Then things started to get bad. Maybe once in a while, Grampa would forget her name. Or forget mine. Or forget where we were. He'd call me Thomas, and ask when the L.T. was gonna be back with the new orders. I would tell him the war was decades ago, and he would laugh it off. The normally-deep wrinkles at the corners of his eyes would become just a little deeper, and I would try to forget.
And yet, we continued our pattern. Every Sunday, him with the black, me with my frappucino. The same order. The baristas came to know us, and to have that order ready when we walked in. Our table was always clear, always clean. It took on the cadence of ritual, and like all good rituals, provided comfort and security in a world that was slowly devolving around us, slipping away like the gossamer cobwebs of memory from my grandfather's failing grasp.
Then came the day when I knocked on that cheap, plywood door at the home, and there was no answer. The heart-thudding walk to the office. Trying to play it cool while I asked whether my grandfather might be in the rec room. The resigned look in the orderly's eyes. The listless way he jangled his keys to open the door.
The horrible, peaceful scene within.
The funeral had been worse. My false, teary-eyed parents accepting condolences like johnny-come-lately vampires. The alligator tears and bored looks at wristwatches. Sorry Granddad's death has inconvenienced you. Wouldn't want you to miss your football games, Dad.
I couldn't take it. After the graveside service, on this Sunday of all Sundays, I needed my ritual. I needed my comfort.
Luckily, it was a familiar barista. "Hey Jen," I said, sweeping in, bedecked in the black of mourning. "Get me the usual."
"Sure thing, Mr. Don," she said, and busied herself behind the counter. I sat at my usual table, staring forlornly at the empty seat across from me, willing time to reverse its inexorable flow to a time when the world wasn't missing its light.
Jen brought me my cup. I twisted it in my hands, feeling the cardboard buckle slightly under the pressure of my hands. I lifted it to my lips, stopped, and lowered it. "To you, Gramps," I said, a glass raised to empty air. After a limitless moment had been swept away, I again pressed the plastic rim of the cup to my lips, and drank.
The flavor of the Cafe Vanilla Light Frappucino, with no fat milk, is indescribable. One might as well assume he could explain the shimmering iridescence of a field of violets, waving in the wind, to a child blind from birth. It contains the sweetness and the bitter, the airy lightness and heavy creaminess that defines, for me, the appropriate taste of coffee. It is comfort reduced to a draught and poured for me by angels.
But the brew that basted my lips was foamy, chocolate-flavored, and granular, as if it contained shavings of chocolate. Beneath it all was the harsh, vegetal crispness of soy. I spit it out, the effluvium landing on the seat, my grandfather's seat. I dropped the cup. The table, our table, sat mutely as the lip popped off and dark, brown liquid began to run across its surface, following the infinitely mutable fractal pathways of chaos. I stood, too quickly, and into the person behind me. I heard her shout in alarm as her laptop fell from the table onto the ground. There was a sickening, crunching sound of impact.
Tears clogging my sight, I turned to flee. Straight into Jen. Hot coffee splashed between us. She yelped in pain and cursed. Her manager, thundering above the din, "Jennifer! That is not work appropriate language! Get your things and *leave*. If I've told you once, I've..."
I could not hear him as I burst through the door and into the parking lot. Quiet winter sun above me, cold air stinging my nose, I fumbled with my keys at the door of my car. Glass crunched beneath my feet. Glass? I looked. My window lay shattered, papers strewn about the inside of my car. A gaping maw where my stereo used to be. Who steals a stereo from a mid-90s Civic? Honestly?
I sat in the pile of shattered glass chips on my seat, and wondered why anyone ever even bothered. I cried then, cried at a time when I thought all my tears had been given to an unfeeling world. And a snippet of conversation not a month gone wormed its way into my brain.
"Don," my grandfather said across a gulf of time and loss, "sometimes life is shit. But that's OK. If life weren't shit, you could never appreciate a good moment."
The other door to my car opened. Jen sat down.
"Hey, someone got your order mixed up. Here's your actual coffee."
She got up to leave. I put a hand on her arm, restraining her.
"Sorry about your job," I muffled around sobs.
"Sorry about your grandfather. Don't worry about the job. I graduate in a month and already have something cool lined up. And my boss was a jerk, anyway."
"I'm glad," I sniffled.
"C'mon, we're getting out of here," Jen said, putting my keys in the ignition and turning it on. "If you're up to it, I'd like to say goodbye, properly, too." | The Batista handed me my drink stone faced. She knew my mother died drinking a Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy because she was the one who served it to her. Why must you be so good, Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy, WHY!?!?! |
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | After realizing you get the wrong sort of drink, you ask to the man in anger 'What the fuck is this?!" You look up at him, only to realize Batista is serving you. (Probably typo by op for Barista... Batista is a big buff character in wwe.) You start to feel your sweat come from your skin as you slowly walk back, shaking... He lifts you up from your collar, then rips his shirt off showing his big buff abs and defined muscles. You are turned on for a second, then realize the situation you are in. After throwing you on the ground he yells "DONT INSULT MY FUCKING DRINKS!" At this point you are frantically running to the door as bystanders watch in shock, he grabs your foot, drags you back, and punches you hard across... Left, right, left, right, until you roll away wher proceeds to smash your head repeatedly against a wall. Slowly, you lose all strength in your body, and everything starts to turn dark...
You wake up in Hospital with a few family members. This is where you take your last breath.
Edit 1: I'm not fixing the grammar. | The corner of 12th and Main is my corner. I sit there everyday, cup pointed at passersby, hoping for a quarter, nickel, anything. Times had been especially hard since the government started silently campaigning against the homeless. No one wanted to part with their change anymore.
At night, I would vanish, slinking into the shadows, avoiding trouble. I just wanted some food, some shelter to protect me from these hot nights. I'm not interested in brawling with the others, so I keep to myself. It has been a long time since I had a conversation with someone. Every morning, just before dawn, I head back to my corner.
It wasn't always like this.
It is the past. I am 12 years old and living with an abusive drunk mother, an absent father. I was the victim of horrible circumstance, bruises on my body. I find it hard to interact with my classmates, to make friends. I was alone, living my nightmare, sitting in my room, thinking there would be no end. Until one day. My aunt stopped by to chat with my mother. My aunt was beautiful. She was warm, and friendly, and I always loved it when she'd stop by. Her presence allowed me to escape from my reality. Usually her visits were short, my mother's strong personality would overshadow her gentle one, but on this day, she seemed determined. I listened as best I could from my room to the scene below me. I had never heard my own mother scream at someone like she was screaming at my aunt, but for what? I couldn't make out what they were saying, my ear pressed hard against the door. Suddenly I heard a crash, and then footsteps. They were coming towards my door. I cowered away, afraid of the abuse that was coming my way. I heard my door open, I felt a soft warm hand on my arm, I looked up. My aunt, beaming down at me. "Let's go," she said, and I willingly followed. She led me out the front door, and I saw my mom in a heap on the floor, unconscious.
I remember the car ride. I remember my aunt didn't want to go home right away. I remember going to the mall to pick out some clothes, a toothbrush. I remember we went to Starbucks. I had never been! My aunt ordered a Vanilla Light Frappuccino with non-fat milk, she loved them, she told me. She ordered me a chocolate milk.
I was 12 when I went to live with my Aunt. My life was the best it had ever been. My bruises healed, and I wasn't so scared to talk to the kids at my school. I started making friends, my grades went up. I even won an award for 'Most Improved.' My classmates cheered for me when I went to accept it. My aunt during all this was getting everything ready to file for custody. I was over the moon in love with her. I would have given my life for her, and I nearly did.
On June 21, 2009, my beautiful Aunt was shot in the heart by her own sister. My mom, drunk off of her iced teas, came to get me back. When my Aunt resisted, she shot her. A neighbour heard the gunshot and called the police. My mom was arrested at the scene, too drunk to understand what was going on.
I spent the next year in foster care, being shuffled from house to house. Abuse and rape were prevalent. I retreated back into my shell, lost all of my friends, failed my classes until I eventually dropped out. Then one night, after learning I was going to new foster parents for the gazillionth time, I left.
Now I live on the corner of 12th and Main.
Today is a special day. A day I have been anticipating. A day I was preparing for mentally. It was my Aunt's birthday, and I wanted to honour her, and the life she had given me. At noon, I was going to walk down to 14th. There was a Starbucks there. I had been saving my dimes for weeks. I pick myself up off the ground. I try to clean myself up a bit, brush off the dirt, fix my hair. I begin my march down the street, avoiding all eye contact from others as I passed.
The glowing green sign reminded me of that day, the best day of my life. I go inside, it is so cool inside. I stand in line, practicing my order over and over again in my head, out loud. 'One Vanilla Light Frappuccino with non-fat milk please' over and over again, until I got to the till. I could barely get the words out. Human interaction is so hard for me. Plus, it's so hot outside, I can barely think. 'Hi, can I haveaVanillaLightFrappuccinowithnon-fatmilk.' The barista asks me to repeat myself, I'm getting too anxious, I'm forgetting to say please. I take a deep breath and try again.
'One Vanilla Light Frappuccino with non-fat milk, please.' The barista nods.
I did it. This is for you Aunty.
The barista asks my name, takes my change, and tells me to wait to the side. I do so. I wait. I wait, while I hear these complicated drinks being auctioned off. Then I hear my name. I go to the counter and announce myself, and the barista shoves a drink in my hand. It's brown, the milk smells sour. It's not at all like what my aunt told me she loved.
I can barely speak, I am shaking. I try to tell the barista that there's been some terrible mistake, but she's gone. There are so many people staring at me, I have to get outside. I push through the sea of people, holding back my tears.
On the street you can't show weakness. People are walking by, on their way to their lives, on their way to their loved ones. But I go back to my corner. The corner of 12th and Main is my corner.
|
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | **MAN:** Excuse me, I think there's been a mistake. I ordered the double choc--
**BARISTA:** Sorry, that's for the man behind you. He has the same name as you. Here's your soy bullshit, Jebediah! And here you go with some non fat milk contraption other Jebediah.
**MAN:** Thanks. (turns) (walks towards door) (slips on puddle of spilt half and half) ARRRRRGH! MY LEG!
**BARISTA:** Whoa! You can see bone sticking out!
**MAN:** I'm hurt!
**BARISTA:** Does anyone here know CPR?
**MAN:** CPR? CALL A FREAKIN' AMBULANCE!
**BARISTA:** Hey! Anyone got a phone?
**MAN:** MINE'S ON THE FLOOR RIGHT THERE COVERED IN BLOOD DEAR GOD CALL FOR HELP!!!
**BARISTA:** So sticky! OK, just gotta swipe it open and... uh-oh.
**MAN:** HURRY UP!
**BARISTA:** There's a text here from your wife. She says she's leaving you.
**MAN:** DON'T CARE! CALL THE GODDAMN AMBULANCE!
**BARISTA:** Yes, we need an ambulance for Jedediah. No, the other one. The non fat guy, not Jebby Soy. (laughs) Yeah, uh-huh. Hey, they say they're already at your house.
**MAN:** WHAT?
**BARISTA:** The twins are dead. They were playing on the roof and snapped their neck when they fell off.
**MAN:** OH MY GOD!
**BARISTA:** But they're sending another ambulance for you, right after the clean off the front of the one that ran over your dog.
**MAN** Duke is dead, too?
**BARISTA:** Yes, but he was already dead when the ambulance ran him over. He got shot by your neighbor.
**MAN:** WHAT????
**BARISTA:** I can hear the siren now. It should be here in a-- oh, Jebby Soy. What's that? Oh, right! I get those mixed up all the time. I made two soy drinks and no non fat one.
**MAN:** I DIDN'T EVEN GET THE RIGHT COFFEE?
**BARISTA:** Whoops!
*END SCENE* | The corner of 12th and Main is my corner. I sit there everyday, cup pointed at passersby, hoping for a quarter, nickel, anything. Times had been especially hard since the government started silently campaigning against the homeless. No one wanted to part with their change anymore.
At night, I would vanish, slinking into the shadows, avoiding trouble. I just wanted some food, some shelter to protect me from these hot nights. I'm not interested in brawling with the others, so I keep to myself. It has been a long time since I had a conversation with someone. Every morning, just before dawn, I head back to my corner.
It wasn't always like this.
It is the past. I am 12 years old and living with an abusive drunk mother, an absent father. I was the victim of horrible circumstance, bruises on my body. I find it hard to interact with my classmates, to make friends. I was alone, living my nightmare, sitting in my room, thinking there would be no end. Until one day. My aunt stopped by to chat with my mother. My aunt was beautiful. She was warm, and friendly, and I always loved it when she'd stop by. Her presence allowed me to escape from my reality. Usually her visits were short, my mother's strong personality would overshadow her gentle one, but on this day, she seemed determined. I listened as best I could from my room to the scene below me. I had never heard my own mother scream at someone like she was screaming at my aunt, but for what? I couldn't make out what they were saying, my ear pressed hard against the door. Suddenly I heard a crash, and then footsteps. They were coming towards my door. I cowered away, afraid of the abuse that was coming my way. I heard my door open, I felt a soft warm hand on my arm, I looked up. My aunt, beaming down at me. "Let's go," she said, and I willingly followed. She led me out the front door, and I saw my mom in a heap on the floor, unconscious.
I remember the car ride. I remember my aunt didn't want to go home right away. I remember going to the mall to pick out some clothes, a toothbrush. I remember we went to Starbucks. I had never been! My aunt ordered a Vanilla Light Frappuccino with non-fat milk, she loved them, she told me. She ordered me a chocolate milk.
I was 12 when I went to live with my Aunt. My life was the best it had ever been. My bruises healed, and I wasn't so scared to talk to the kids at my school. I started making friends, my grades went up. I even won an award for 'Most Improved.' My classmates cheered for me when I went to accept it. My aunt during all this was getting everything ready to file for custody. I was over the moon in love with her. I would have given my life for her, and I nearly did.
On June 21, 2009, my beautiful Aunt was shot in the heart by her own sister. My mom, drunk off of her iced teas, came to get me back. When my Aunt resisted, she shot her. A neighbour heard the gunshot and called the police. My mom was arrested at the scene, too drunk to understand what was going on.
I spent the next year in foster care, being shuffled from house to house. Abuse and rape were prevalent. I retreated back into my shell, lost all of my friends, failed my classes until I eventually dropped out. Then one night, after learning I was going to new foster parents for the gazillionth time, I left.
Now I live on the corner of 12th and Main.
Today is a special day. A day I have been anticipating. A day I was preparing for mentally. It was my Aunt's birthday, and I wanted to honour her, and the life she had given me. At noon, I was going to walk down to 14th. There was a Starbucks there. I had been saving my dimes for weeks. I pick myself up off the ground. I try to clean myself up a bit, brush off the dirt, fix my hair. I begin my march down the street, avoiding all eye contact from others as I passed.
The glowing green sign reminded me of that day, the best day of my life. I go inside, it is so cool inside. I stand in line, practicing my order over and over again in my head, out loud. 'One Vanilla Light Frappuccino with non-fat milk please' over and over again, until I got to the till. I could barely get the words out. Human interaction is so hard for me. Plus, it's so hot outside, I can barely think. 'Hi, can I haveaVanillaLightFrappuccinowithnon-fatmilk.' The barista asks me to repeat myself, I'm getting too anxious, I'm forgetting to say please. I take a deep breath and try again.
'One Vanilla Light Frappuccino with non-fat milk, please.' The barista nods.
I did it. This is for you Aunty.
The barista asks my name, takes my change, and tells me to wait to the side. I do so. I wait. I wait, while I hear these complicated drinks being auctioned off. Then I hear my name. I go to the counter and announce myself, and the barista shoves a drink in my hand. It's brown, the milk smells sour. It's not at all like what my aunt told me she loved.
I can barely speak, I am shaking. I try to tell the barista that there's been some terrible mistake, but she's gone. There are so many people staring at me, I have to get outside. I push through the sea of people, holding back my tears.
On the street you can't show weakness. People are walking by, on their way to their lives, on their way to their loved ones. But I go back to my corner. The corner of 12th and Main is my corner.
|
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | I went to starbucks this morning. I was on my phone and not really paying attention to the ba*r*ista who was serving me. What I got was not what I ordered. I turned around and started complaining loudly. That's when I realised that I was being served by WWE wrestler Ba*t*ista. His face got screwed up. He grabbed me and lifted me over his head and threw me down on the table and then poured the wrong coffee down my throat. | The corner of 12th and Main is my corner. I sit there everyday, cup pointed at passersby, hoping for a quarter, nickel, anything. Times had been especially hard since the government started silently campaigning against the homeless. No one wanted to part with their change anymore.
At night, I would vanish, slinking into the shadows, avoiding trouble. I just wanted some food, some shelter to protect me from these hot nights. I'm not interested in brawling with the others, so I keep to myself. It has been a long time since I had a conversation with someone. Every morning, just before dawn, I head back to my corner.
It wasn't always like this.
It is the past. I am 12 years old and living with an abusive drunk mother, an absent father. I was the victim of horrible circumstance, bruises on my body. I find it hard to interact with my classmates, to make friends. I was alone, living my nightmare, sitting in my room, thinking there would be no end. Until one day. My aunt stopped by to chat with my mother. My aunt was beautiful. She was warm, and friendly, and I always loved it when she'd stop by. Her presence allowed me to escape from my reality. Usually her visits were short, my mother's strong personality would overshadow her gentle one, but on this day, she seemed determined. I listened as best I could from my room to the scene below me. I had never heard my own mother scream at someone like she was screaming at my aunt, but for what? I couldn't make out what they were saying, my ear pressed hard against the door. Suddenly I heard a crash, and then footsteps. They were coming towards my door. I cowered away, afraid of the abuse that was coming my way. I heard my door open, I felt a soft warm hand on my arm, I looked up. My aunt, beaming down at me. "Let's go," she said, and I willingly followed. She led me out the front door, and I saw my mom in a heap on the floor, unconscious.
I remember the car ride. I remember my aunt didn't want to go home right away. I remember going to the mall to pick out some clothes, a toothbrush. I remember we went to Starbucks. I had never been! My aunt ordered a Vanilla Light Frappuccino with non-fat milk, she loved them, she told me. She ordered me a chocolate milk.
I was 12 when I went to live with my Aunt. My life was the best it had ever been. My bruises healed, and I wasn't so scared to talk to the kids at my school. I started making friends, my grades went up. I even won an award for 'Most Improved.' My classmates cheered for me when I went to accept it. My aunt during all this was getting everything ready to file for custody. I was over the moon in love with her. I would have given my life for her, and I nearly did.
On June 21, 2009, my beautiful Aunt was shot in the heart by her own sister. My mom, drunk off of her iced teas, came to get me back. When my Aunt resisted, she shot her. A neighbour heard the gunshot and called the police. My mom was arrested at the scene, too drunk to understand what was going on.
I spent the next year in foster care, being shuffled from house to house. Abuse and rape were prevalent. I retreated back into my shell, lost all of my friends, failed my classes until I eventually dropped out. Then one night, after learning I was going to new foster parents for the gazillionth time, I left.
Now I live on the corner of 12th and Main.
Today is a special day. A day I have been anticipating. A day I was preparing for mentally. It was my Aunt's birthday, and I wanted to honour her, and the life she had given me. At noon, I was going to walk down to 14th. There was a Starbucks there. I had been saving my dimes for weeks. I pick myself up off the ground. I try to clean myself up a bit, brush off the dirt, fix my hair. I begin my march down the street, avoiding all eye contact from others as I passed.
The glowing green sign reminded me of that day, the best day of my life. I go inside, it is so cool inside. I stand in line, practicing my order over and over again in my head, out loud. 'One Vanilla Light Frappuccino with non-fat milk please' over and over again, until I got to the till. I could barely get the words out. Human interaction is so hard for me. Plus, it's so hot outside, I can barely think. 'Hi, can I haveaVanillaLightFrappuccinowithnon-fatmilk.' The barista asks me to repeat myself, I'm getting too anxious, I'm forgetting to say please. I take a deep breath and try again.
'One Vanilla Light Frappuccino with non-fat milk, please.' The barista nods.
I did it. This is for you Aunty.
The barista asks my name, takes my change, and tells me to wait to the side. I do so. I wait. I wait, while I hear these complicated drinks being auctioned off. Then I hear my name. I go to the counter and announce myself, and the barista shoves a drink in my hand. It's brown, the milk smells sour. It's not at all like what my aunt told me she loved.
I can barely speak, I am shaking. I try to tell the barista that there's been some terrible mistake, but she's gone. There are so many people staring at me, I have to get outside. I push through the sea of people, holding back my tears.
On the street you can't show weakness. People are walking by, on their way to their lives, on their way to their loved ones. But I go back to my corner. The corner of 12th and Main is my corner.
|
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | Lieutenant Batista getting fired from Miami-Metro, having to work at Starbucks hearing you bitch about your drink and then leaping over the counter and beating your ass sounds funny and tragic. | The corner of 12th and Main is my corner. I sit there everyday, cup pointed at passersby, hoping for a quarter, nickel, anything. Times had been especially hard since the government started silently campaigning against the homeless. No one wanted to part with their change anymore.
At night, I would vanish, slinking into the shadows, avoiding trouble. I just wanted some food, some shelter to protect me from these hot nights. I'm not interested in brawling with the others, so I keep to myself. It has been a long time since I had a conversation with someone. Every morning, just before dawn, I head back to my corner.
It wasn't always like this.
It is the past. I am 12 years old and living with an abusive drunk mother, an absent father. I was the victim of horrible circumstance, bruises on my body. I find it hard to interact with my classmates, to make friends. I was alone, living my nightmare, sitting in my room, thinking there would be no end. Until one day. My aunt stopped by to chat with my mother. My aunt was beautiful. She was warm, and friendly, and I always loved it when she'd stop by. Her presence allowed me to escape from my reality. Usually her visits were short, my mother's strong personality would overshadow her gentle one, but on this day, she seemed determined. I listened as best I could from my room to the scene below me. I had never heard my own mother scream at someone like she was screaming at my aunt, but for what? I couldn't make out what they were saying, my ear pressed hard against the door. Suddenly I heard a crash, and then footsteps. They were coming towards my door. I cowered away, afraid of the abuse that was coming my way. I heard my door open, I felt a soft warm hand on my arm, I looked up. My aunt, beaming down at me. "Let's go," she said, and I willingly followed. She led me out the front door, and I saw my mom in a heap on the floor, unconscious.
I remember the car ride. I remember my aunt didn't want to go home right away. I remember going to the mall to pick out some clothes, a toothbrush. I remember we went to Starbucks. I had never been! My aunt ordered a Vanilla Light Frappuccino with non-fat milk, she loved them, she told me. She ordered me a chocolate milk.
I was 12 when I went to live with my Aunt. My life was the best it had ever been. My bruises healed, and I wasn't so scared to talk to the kids at my school. I started making friends, my grades went up. I even won an award for 'Most Improved.' My classmates cheered for me when I went to accept it. My aunt during all this was getting everything ready to file for custody. I was over the moon in love with her. I would have given my life for her, and I nearly did.
On June 21, 2009, my beautiful Aunt was shot in the heart by her own sister. My mom, drunk off of her iced teas, came to get me back. When my Aunt resisted, she shot her. A neighbour heard the gunshot and called the police. My mom was arrested at the scene, too drunk to understand what was going on.
I spent the next year in foster care, being shuffled from house to house. Abuse and rape were prevalent. I retreated back into my shell, lost all of my friends, failed my classes until I eventually dropped out. Then one night, after learning I was going to new foster parents for the gazillionth time, I left.
Now I live on the corner of 12th and Main.
Today is a special day. A day I have been anticipating. A day I was preparing for mentally. It was my Aunt's birthday, and I wanted to honour her, and the life she had given me. At noon, I was going to walk down to 14th. There was a Starbucks there. I had been saving my dimes for weeks. I pick myself up off the ground. I try to clean myself up a bit, brush off the dirt, fix my hair. I begin my march down the street, avoiding all eye contact from others as I passed.
The glowing green sign reminded me of that day, the best day of my life. I go inside, it is so cool inside. I stand in line, practicing my order over and over again in my head, out loud. 'One Vanilla Light Frappuccino with non-fat milk please' over and over again, until I got to the till. I could barely get the words out. Human interaction is so hard for me. Plus, it's so hot outside, I can barely think. 'Hi, can I haveaVanillaLightFrappuccinowithnon-fatmilk.' The barista asks me to repeat myself, I'm getting too anxious, I'm forgetting to say please. I take a deep breath and try again.
'One Vanilla Light Frappuccino with non-fat milk, please.' The barista nods.
I did it. This is for you Aunty.
The barista asks my name, takes my change, and tells me to wait to the side. I do so. I wait. I wait, while I hear these complicated drinks being auctioned off. Then I hear my name. I go to the counter and announce myself, and the barista shoves a drink in my hand. It's brown, the milk smells sour. It's not at all like what my aunt told me she loved.
I can barely speak, I am shaking. I try to tell the barista that there's been some terrible mistake, but she's gone. There are so many people staring at me, I have to get outside. I push through the sea of people, holding back my tears.
On the street you can't show weakness. People are walking by, on their way to their lives, on their way to their loved ones. But I go back to my corner. The corner of 12th and Main is my corner.
|
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | Starbucks Batista
http://imgur.com/65k9noU
Starbucks Batista leaned over the counter and handed me my chocolaty beverage. He must have sensed my dissatisfaction because he looked at me with the most intense "fuck off or i will eat you" type of vibe...after a few seconds of uncomfortable staring he proclaimed "Basketballs....don't hold grudges" and that was that. | The corner of 12th and Main is my corner. I sit there everyday, cup pointed at passersby, hoping for a quarter, nickel, anything. Times had been especially hard since the government started silently campaigning against the homeless. No one wanted to part with their change anymore.
At night, I would vanish, slinking into the shadows, avoiding trouble. I just wanted some food, some shelter to protect me from these hot nights. I'm not interested in brawling with the others, so I keep to myself. It has been a long time since I had a conversation with someone. Every morning, just before dawn, I head back to my corner.
It wasn't always like this.
It is the past. I am 12 years old and living with an abusive drunk mother, an absent father. I was the victim of horrible circumstance, bruises on my body. I find it hard to interact with my classmates, to make friends. I was alone, living my nightmare, sitting in my room, thinking there would be no end. Until one day. My aunt stopped by to chat with my mother. My aunt was beautiful. She was warm, and friendly, and I always loved it when she'd stop by. Her presence allowed me to escape from my reality. Usually her visits were short, my mother's strong personality would overshadow her gentle one, but on this day, she seemed determined. I listened as best I could from my room to the scene below me. I had never heard my own mother scream at someone like she was screaming at my aunt, but for what? I couldn't make out what they were saying, my ear pressed hard against the door. Suddenly I heard a crash, and then footsteps. They were coming towards my door. I cowered away, afraid of the abuse that was coming my way. I heard my door open, I felt a soft warm hand on my arm, I looked up. My aunt, beaming down at me. "Let's go," she said, and I willingly followed. She led me out the front door, and I saw my mom in a heap on the floor, unconscious.
I remember the car ride. I remember my aunt didn't want to go home right away. I remember going to the mall to pick out some clothes, a toothbrush. I remember we went to Starbucks. I had never been! My aunt ordered a Vanilla Light Frappuccino with non-fat milk, she loved them, she told me. She ordered me a chocolate milk.
I was 12 when I went to live with my Aunt. My life was the best it had ever been. My bruises healed, and I wasn't so scared to talk to the kids at my school. I started making friends, my grades went up. I even won an award for 'Most Improved.' My classmates cheered for me when I went to accept it. My aunt during all this was getting everything ready to file for custody. I was over the moon in love with her. I would have given my life for her, and I nearly did.
On June 21, 2009, my beautiful Aunt was shot in the heart by her own sister. My mom, drunk off of her iced teas, came to get me back. When my Aunt resisted, she shot her. A neighbour heard the gunshot and called the police. My mom was arrested at the scene, too drunk to understand what was going on.
I spent the next year in foster care, being shuffled from house to house. Abuse and rape were prevalent. I retreated back into my shell, lost all of my friends, failed my classes until I eventually dropped out. Then one night, after learning I was going to new foster parents for the gazillionth time, I left.
Now I live on the corner of 12th and Main.
Today is a special day. A day I have been anticipating. A day I was preparing for mentally. It was my Aunt's birthday, and I wanted to honour her, and the life she had given me. At noon, I was going to walk down to 14th. There was a Starbucks there. I had been saving my dimes for weeks. I pick myself up off the ground. I try to clean myself up a bit, brush off the dirt, fix my hair. I begin my march down the street, avoiding all eye contact from others as I passed.
The glowing green sign reminded me of that day, the best day of my life. I go inside, it is so cool inside. I stand in line, practicing my order over and over again in my head, out loud. 'One Vanilla Light Frappuccino with non-fat milk please' over and over again, until I got to the till. I could barely get the words out. Human interaction is so hard for me. Plus, it's so hot outside, I can barely think. 'Hi, can I haveaVanillaLightFrappuccinowithnon-fatmilk.' The barista asks me to repeat myself, I'm getting too anxious, I'm forgetting to say please. I take a deep breath and try again.
'One Vanilla Light Frappuccino with non-fat milk, please.' The barista nods.
I did it. This is for you Aunty.
The barista asks my name, takes my change, and tells me to wait to the side. I do so. I wait. I wait, while I hear these complicated drinks being auctioned off. Then I hear my name. I go to the counter and announce myself, and the barista shoves a drink in my hand. It's brown, the milk smells sour. It's not at all like what my aunt told me she loved.
I can barely speak, I am shaking. I try to tell the barista that there's been some terrible mistake, but she's gone. There are so many people staring at me, I have to get outside. I push through the sea of people, holding back my tears.
On the street you can't show weakness. People are walking by, on their way to their lives, on their way to their loved ones. But I go back to my corner. The corner of 12th and Main is my corner.
|
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | I sat in my chair eying the drink I had not ordered, but I had to forgive the mistake as I choked back tears. In the soul crushing realization that "The Animal" Dave Batista was reduced to serving at Starbucks. It had not been so long ago that he was part of Evolution with Triple H and the Nature Boy Rick Flair. Now I look upon this once veritable mass of fury as he quietly slinks behind the counter to his dark fall from the public eye. A single tear drops from my cheek. | The corner of 12th and Main is my corner. I sit there everyday, cup pointed at passersby, hoping for a quarter, nickel, anything. Times had been especially hard since the government started silently campaigning against the homeless. No one wanted to part with their change anymore.
At night, I would vanish, slinking into the shadows, avoiding trouble. I just wanted some food, some shelter to protect me from these hot nights. I'm not interested in brawling with the others, so I keep to myself. It has been a long time since I had a conversation with someone. Every morning, just before dawn, I head back to my corner.
It wasn't always like this.
It is the past. I am 12 years old and living with an abusive drunk mother, an absent father. I was the victim of horrible circumstance, bruises on my body. I find it hard to interact with my classmates, to make friends. I was alone, living my nightmare, sitting in my room, thinking there would be no end. Until one day. My aunt stopped by to chat with my mother. My aunt was beautiful. She was warm, and friendly, and I always loved it when she'd stop by. Her presence allowed me to escape from my reality. Usually her visits were short, my mother's strong personality would overshadow her gentle one, but on this day, she seemed determined. I listened as best I could from my room to the scene below me. I had never heard my own mother scream at someone like she was screaming at my aunt, but for what? I couldn't make out what they were saying, my ear pressed hard against the door. Suddenly I heard a crash, and then footsteps. They were coming towards my door. I cowered away, afraid of the abuse that was coming my way. I heard my door open, I felt a soft warm hand on my arm, I looked up. My aunt, beaming down at me. "Let's go," she said, and I willingly followed. She led me out the front door, and I saw my mom in a heap on the floor, unconscious.
I remember the car ride. I remember my aunt didn't want to go home right away. I remember going to the mall to pick out some clothes, a toothbrush. I remember we went to Starbucks. I had never been! My aunt ordered a Vanilla Light Frappuccino with non-fat milk, she loved them, she told me. She ordered me a chocolate milk.
I was 12 when I went to live with my Aunt. My life was the best it had ever been. My bruises healed, and I wasn't so scared to talk to the kids at my school. I started making friends, my grades went up. I even won an award for 'Most Improved.' My classmates cheered for me when I went to accept it. My aunt during all this was getting everything ready to file for custody. I was over the moon in love with her. I would have given my life for her, and I nearly did.
On June 21, 2009, my beautiful Aunt was shot in the heart by her own sister. My mom, drunk off of her iced teas, came to get me back. When my Aunt resisted, she shot her. A neighbour heard the gunshot and called the police. My mom was arrested at the scene, too drunk to understand what was going on.
I spent the next year in foster care, being shuffled from house to house. Abuse and rape were prevalent. I retreated back into my shell, lost all of my friends, failed my classes until I eventually dropped out. Then one night, after learning I was going to new foster parents for the gazillionth time, I left.
Now I live on the corner of 12th and Main.
Today is a special day. A day I have been anticipating. A day I was preparing for mentally. It was my Aunt's birthday, and I wanted to honour her, and the life she had given me. At noon, I was going to walk down to 14th. There was a Starbucks there. I had been saving my dimes for weeks. I pick myself up off the ground. I try to clean myself up a bit, brush off the dirt, fix my hair. I begin my march down the street, avoiding all eye contact from others as I passed.
The glowing green sign reminded me of that day, the best day of my life. I go inside, it is so cool inside. I stand in line, practicing my order over and over again in my head, out loud. 'One Vanilla Light Frappuccino with non-fat milk please' over and over again, until I got to the till. I could barely get the words out. Human interaction is so hard for me. Plus, it's so hot outside, I can barely think. 'Hi, can I haveaVanillaLightFrappuccinowithnon-fatmilk.' The barista asks me to repeat myself, I'm getting too anxious, I'm forgetting to say please. I take a deep breath and try again.
'One Vanilla Light Frappuccino with non-fat milk, please.' The barista nods.
I did it. This is for you Aunty.
The barista asks my name, takes my change, and tells me to wait to the side. I do so. I wait. I wait, while I hear these complicated drinks being auctioned off. Then I hear my name. I go to the counter and announce myself, and the barista shoves a drink in my hand. It's brown, the milk smells sour. It's not at all like what my aunt told me she loved.
I can barely speak, I am shaking. I try to tell the barista that there's been some terrible mistake, but she's gone. There are so many people staring at me, I have to get outside. I push through the sea of people, holding back my tears.
On the street you can't show weakness. People are walking by, on their way to their lives, on their way to their loved ones. But I go back to my corner. The corner of 12th and Main is my corner.
|
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | I shuffled away from the funeral, sniffling and trying to dry my eyes. Every Sunday, for the past ten years, I had gone to the home where my thankless and thoughtless parents had left my grandfather, and picked him up. I didn't always have gas money, and more than once I tried to hide my embarrassment when I saw him looking at my change engine light.
"Donny," he would say, "let me get this." And I would let him. I think it made him feel good, to be able to buy me the coffee I wanted. We would sit, him with his cup of straight black coffee, and me with my Cafe Vanilla Light Frappucino, with no fat milk, and talk about our lives. He had the best stories. Sometimes our barista would sit down and have a chat with us. Gramps would flirt with her, and she would humor him. The halcyon days.
Then things started to get bad. Maybe once in a while, Grampa would forget her name. Or forget mine. Or forget where we were. He'd call me Thomas, and ask when the L.T. was gonna be back with the new orders. I would tell him the war was decades ago, and he would laugh it off. The normally-deep wrinkles at the corners of his eyes would become just a little deeper, and I would try to forget.
And yet, we continued our pattern. Every Sunday, him with the black, me with my frappucino. The same order. The baristas came to know us, and to have that order ready when we walked in. Our table was always clear, always clean. It took on the cadence of ritual, and like all good rituals, provided comfort and security in a world that was slowly devolving around us, slipping away like the gossamer cobwebs of memory from my grandfather's failing grasp.
Then came the day when I knocked on that cheap, plywood door at the home, and there was no answer. The heart-thudding walk to the office. Trying to play it cool while I asked whether my grandfather might be in the rec room. The resigned look in the orderly's eyes. The listless way he jangled his keys to open the door.
The horrible, peaceful scene within.
The funeral had been worse. My false, teary-eyed parents accepting condolences like johnny-come-lately vampires. The alligator tears and bored looks at wristwatches. Sorry Granddad's death has inconvenienced you. Wouldn't want you to miss your football games, Dad.
I couldn't take it. After the graveside service, on this Sunday of all Sundays, I needed my ritual. I needed my comfort.
Luckily, it was a familiar barista. "Hey Jen," I said, sweeping in, bedecked in the black of mourning. "Get me the usual."
"Sure thing, Mr. Don," she said, and busied herself behind the counter. I sat at my usual table, staring forlornly at the empty seat across from me, willing time to reverse its inexorable flow to a time when the world wasn't missing its light.
Jen brought me my cup. I twisted it in my hands, feeling the cardboard buckle slightly under the pressure of my hands. I lifted it to my lips, stopped, and lowered it. "To you, Gramps," I said, a glass raised to empty air. After a limitless moment had been swept away, I again pressed the plastic rim of the cup to my lips, and drank.
The flavor of the Cafe Vanilla Light Frappucino, with no fat milk, is indescribable. One might as well assume he could explain the shimmering iridescence of a field of violets, waving in the wind, to a child blind from birth. It contains the sweetness and the bitter, the airy lightness and heavy creaminess that defines, for me, the appropriate taste of coffee. It is comfort reduced to a draught and poured for me by angels.
But the brew that basted my lips was foamy, chocolate-flavored, and granular, as if it contained shavings of chocolate. Beneath it all was the harsh, vegetal crispness of soy. I spit it out, the effluvium landing on the seat, my grandfather's seat. I dropped the cup. The table, our table, sat mutely as the lip popped off and dark, brown liquid began to run across its surface, following the infinitely mutable fractal pathways of chaos. I stood, too quickly, and into the person behind me. I heard her shout in alarm as her laptop fell from the table onto the ground. There was a sickening, crunching sound of impact.
Tears clogging my sight, I turned to flee. Straight into Jen. Hot coffee splashed between us. She yelped in pain and cursed. Her manager, thundering above the din, "Jennifer! That is not work appropriate language! Get your things and *leave*. If I've told you once, I've..."
I could not hear him as I burst through the door and into the parking lot. Quiet winter sun above me, cold air stinging my nose, I fumbled with my keys at the door of my car. Glass crunched beneath my feet. Glass? I looked. My window lay shattered, papers strewn about the inside of my car. A gaping maw where my stereo used to be. Who steals a stereo from a mid-90s Civic? Honestly?
I sat in the pile of shattered glass chips on my seat, and wondered why anyone ever even bothered. I cried then, cried at a time when I thought all my tears had been given to an unfeeling world. And a snippet of conversation not a month gone wormed its way into my brain.
"Don," my grandfather said across a gulf of time and loss, "sometimes life is shit. But that's OK. If life weren't shit, you could never appreciate a good moment."
The other door to my car opened. Jen sat down.
"Hey, someone got your order mixed up. Here's your actual coffee."
She got up to leave. I put a hand on her arm, restraining her.
"Sorry about your job," I muffled around sobs.
"Sorry about your grandfather. Don't worry about the job. I graduate in a month and already have something cool lined up. And my boss was a jerk, anyway."
"I'm glad," I sniffled.
"C'mon, we're getting out of here," Jen said, putting my keys in the ignition and turning it on. "If you're up to it, I'd like to say goodbye, properly, too." | The corner of 12th and Main is my corner. I sit there everyday, cup pointed at passersby, hoping for a quarter, nickel, anything. Times had been especially hard since the government started silently campaigning against the homeless. No one wanted to part with their change anymore.
At night, I would vanish, slinking into the shadows, avoiding trouble. I just wanted some food, some shelter to protect me from these hot nights. I'm not interested in brawling with the others, so I keep to myself. It has been a long time since I had a conversation with someone. Every morning, just before dawn, I head back to my corner.
It wasn't always like this.
It is the past. I am 12 years old and living with an abusive drunk mother, an absent father. I was the victim of horrible circumstance, bruises on my body. I find it hard to interact with my classmates, to make friends. I was alone, living my nightmare, sitting in my room, thinking there would be no end. Until one day. My aunt stopped by to chat with my mother. My aunt was beautiful. She was warm, and friendly, and I always loved it when she'd stop by. Her presence allowed me to escape from my reality. Usually her visits were short, my mother's strong personality would overshadow her gentle one, but on this day, she seemed determined. I listened as best I could from my room to the scene below me. I had never heard my own mother scream at someone like she was screaming at my aunt, but for what? I couldn't make out what they were saying, my ear pressed hard against the door. Suddenly I heard a crash, and then footsteps. They were coming towards my door. I cowered away, afraid of the abuse that was coming my way. I heard my door open, I felt a soft warm hand on my arm, I looked up. My aunt, beaming down at me. "Let's go," she said, and I willingly followed. She led me out the front door, and I saw my mom in a heap on the floor, unconscious.
I remember the car ride. I remember my aunt didn't want to go home right away. I remember going to the mall to pick out some clothes, a toothbrush. I remember we went to Starbucks. I had never been! My aunt ordered a Vanilla Light Frappuccino with non-fat milk, she loved them, she told me. She ordered me a chocolate milk.
I was 12 when I went to live with my Aunt. My life was the best it had ever been. My bruises healed, and I wasn't so scared to talk to the kids at my school. I started making friends, my grades went up. I even won an award for 'Most Improved.' My classmates cheered for me when I went to accept it. My aunt during all this was getting everything ready to file for custody. I was over the moon in love with her. I would have given my life for her, and I nearly did.
On June 21, 2009, my beautiful Aunt was shot in the heart by her own sister. My mom, drunk off of her iced teas, came to get me back. When my Aunt resisted, she shot her. A neighbour heard the gunshot and called the police. My mom was arrested at the scene, too drunk to understand what was going on.
I spent the next year in foster care, being shuffled from house to house. Abuse and rape were prevalent. I retreated back into my shell, lost all of my friends, failed my classes until I eventually dropped out. Then one night, after learning I was going to new foster parents for the gazillionth time, I left.
Now I live on the corner of 12th and Main.
Today is a special day. A day I have been anticipating. A day I was preparing for mentally. It was my Aunt's birthday, and I wanted to honour her, and the life she had given me. At noon, I was going to walk down to 14th. There was a Starbucks there. I had been saving my dimes for weeks. I pick myself up off the ground. I try to clean myself up a bit, brush off the dirt, fix my hair. I begin my march down the street, avoiding all eye contact from others as I passed.
The glowing green sign reminded me of that day, the best day of my life. I go inside, it is so cool inside. I stand in line, practicing my order over and over again in my head, out loud. 'One Vanilla Light Frappuccino with non-fat milk please' over and over again, until I got to the till. I could barely get the words out. Human interaction is so hard for me. Plus, it's so hot outside, I can barely think. 'Hi, can I haveaVanillaLightFrappuccinowithnon-fatmilk.' The barista asks me to repeat myself, I'm getting too anxious, I'm forgetting to say please. I take a deep breath and try again.
'One Vanilla Light Frappuccino with non-fat milk, please.' The barista nods.
I did it. This is for you Aunty.
The barista asks my name, takes my change, and tells me to wait to the side. I do so. I wait. I wait, while I hear these complicated drinks being auctioned off. Then I hear my name. I go to the counter and announce myself, and the barista shoves a drink in my hand. It's brown, the milk smells sour. It's not at all like what my aunt told me she loved.
I can barely speak, I am shaking. I try to tell the barista that there's been some terrible mistake, but she's gone. There are so many people staring at me, I have to get outside. I push through the sea of people, holding back my tears.
On the street you can't show weakness. People are walking by, on their way to their lives, on their way to their loved ones. But I go back to my corner. The corner of 12th and Main is my corner.
|
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | After realizing you get the wrong sort of drink, you ask to the man in anger 'What the fuck is this?!" You look up at him, only to realize Batista is serving you. (Probably typo by op for Barista... Batista is a big buff character in wwe.) You start to feel your sweat come from your skin as you slowly walk back, shaking... He lifts you up from your collar, then rips his shirt off showing his big buff abs and defined muscles. You are turned on for a second, then realize the situation you are in. After throwing you on the ground he yells "DONT INSULT MY FUCKING DRINKS!" At this point you are frantically running to the door as bystanders watch in shock, he grabs your foot, drags you back, and punches you hard across... Left, right, left, right, until you roll away wher proceeds to smash your head repeatedly against a wall. Slowly, you lose all strength in your body, and everything starts to turn dark...
You wake up in Hospital with a few family members. This is where you take your last breath.
Edit 1: I'm not fixing the grammar. | As a white nationalist this is proof once again that the blacks are taking over. I ordered vanilla, something distinctly white and got chocolate, something black. But maybe this has nothing to do with blacks taking over and white people being descriminated against, maybe it just has something to do with people hating me. Figured so, the moment i approached the couple on this table they left, maybe its because im black. Does my life even have any value? Yeah sure, Obama is in the white house, a black guy, but are we really the same. Im more like kakao, while he is like milk chocolate, we are a different breed. I am not even worthy to walk on this ground, not even worthy to smell this bitter air... Worthless, isnt that what my mom called me when i fucked her sister, my aunt so to say. Man, i regretted it, or maybe not, but things changed after that. Maybe this Chocolate flavored drink is an enbodiment of my own misery? Oh wait, my name isnt even Joshua, its Josh... |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | **MAN:** Excuse me, I think there's been a mistake. I ordered the double choc--
**BARISTA:** Sorry, that's for the man behind you. He has the same name as you. Here's your soy bullshit, Jebediah! And here you go with some non fat milk contraption other Jebediah.
**MAN:** Thanks. (turns) (walks towards door) (slips on puddle of spilt half and half) ARRRRRGH! MY LEG!
**BARISTA:** Whoa! You can see bone sticking out!
**MAN:** I'm hurt!
**BARISTA:** Does anyone here know CPR?
**MAN:** CPR? CALL A FREAKIN' AMBULANCE!
**BARISTA:** Hey! Anyone got a phone?
**MAN:** MINE'S ON THE FLOOR RIGHT THERE COVERED IN BLOOD DEAR GOD CALL FOR HELP!!!
**BARISTA:** So sticky! OK, just gotta swipe it open and... uh-oh.
**MAN:** HURRY UP!
**BARISTA:** There's a text here from your wife. She says she's leaving you.
**MAN:** DON'T CARE! CALL THE GODDAMN AMBULANCE!
**BARISTA:** Yes, we need an ambulance for Jedediah. No, the other one. The non fat guy, not Jebby Soy. (laughs) Yeah, uh-huh. Hey, they say they're already at your house.
**MAN:** WHAT?
**BARISTA:** The twins are dead. They were playing on the roof and snapped their neck when they fell off.
**MAN:** OH MY GOD!
**BARISTA:** But they're sending another ambulance for you, right after the clean off the front of the one that ran over your dog.
**MAN** Duke is dead, too?
**BARISTA:** Yes, but he was already dead when the ambulance ran him over. He got shot by your neighbor.
**MAN:** WHAT????
**BARISTA:** I can hear the siren now. It should be here in a-- oh, Jebby Soy. What's that? Oh, right! I get those mixed up all the time. I made two soy drinks and no non fat one.
**MAN:** I DIDN'T EVEN GET THE RIGHT COFFEE?
**BARISTA:** Whoops!
*END SCENE* | As a white nationalist this is proof once again that the blacks are taking over. I ordered vanilla, something distinctly white and got chocolate, something black. But maybe this has nothing to do with blacks taking over and white people being descriminated against, maybe it just has something to do with people hating me. Figured so, the moment i approached the couple on this table they left, maybe its because im black. Does my life even have any value? Yeah sure, Obama is in the white house, a black guy, but are we really the same. Im more like kakao, while he is like milk chocolate, we are a different breed. I am not even worthy to walk on this ground, not even worthy to smell this bitter air... Worthless, isnt that what my mom called me when i fucked her sister, my aunt so to say. Man, i regretted it, or maybe not, but things changed after that. Maybe this Chocolate flavored drink is an enbodiment of my own misery? Oh wait, my name isnt even Joshua, its Josh... |
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | I went to starbucks this morning. I was on my phone and not really paying attention to the ba*r*ista who was serving me. What I got was not what I ordered. I turned around and started complaining loudly. That's when I realised that I was being served by WWE wrestler Ba*t*ista. His face got screwed up. He grabbed me and lifted me over his head and threw me down on the table and then poured the wrong coffee down my throat. | As a white nationalist this is proof once again that the blacks are taking over. I ordered vanilla, something distinctly white and got chocolate, something black. But maybe this has nothing to do with blacks taking over and white people being descriminated against, maybe it just has something to do with people hating me. Figured so, the moment i approached the couple on this table they left, maybe its because im black. Does my life even have any value? Yeah sure, Obama is in the white house, a black guy, but are we really the same. Im more like kakao, while he is like milk chocolate, we are a different breed. I am not even worthy to walk on this ground, not even worthy to smell this bitter air... Worthless, isnt that what my mom called me when i fucked her sister, my aunt so to say. Man, i regretted it, or maybe not, but things changed after that. Maybe this Chocolate flavored drink is an enbodiment of my own misery? Oh wait, my name isnt even Joshua, its Josh... |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | Lieutenant Batista getting fired from Miami-Metro, having to work at Starbucks hearing you bitch about your drink and then leaping over the counter and beating your ass sounds funny and tragic. | As a white nationalist this is proof once again that the blacks are taking over. I ordered vanilla, something distinctly white and got chocolate, something black. But maybe this has nothing to do with blacks taking over and white people being descriminated against, maybe it just has something to do with people hating me. Figured so, the moment i approached the couple on this table they left, maybe its because im black. Does my life even have any value? Yeah sure, Obama is in the white house, a black guy, but are we really the same. Im more like kakao, while he is like milk chocolate, we are a different breed. I am not even worthy to walk on this ground, not even worthy to smell this bitter air... Worthless, isnt that what my mom called me when i fucked her sister, my aunt so to say. Man, i regretted it, or maybe not, but things changed after that. Maybe this Chocolate flavored drink is an enbodiment of my own misery? Oh wait, my name isnt even Joshua, its Josh... |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | Starbucks Batista
http://imgur.com/65k9noU
Starbucks Batista leaned over the counter and handed me my chocolaty beverage. He must have sensed my dissatisfaction because he looked at me with the most intense "fuck off or i will eat you" type of vibe...after a few seconds of uncomfortable staring he proclaimed "Basketballs....don't hold grudges" and that was that. | As a white nationalist this is proof once again that the blacks are taking over. I ordered vanilla, something distinctly white and got chocolate, something black. But maybe this has nothing to do with blacks taking over and white people being descriminated against, maybe it just has something to do with people hating me. Figured so, the moment i approached the couple on this table they left, maybe its because im black. Does my life even have any value? Yeah sure, Obama is in the white house, a black guy, but are we really the same. Im more like kakao, while he is like milk chocolate, we are a different breed. I am not even worthy to walk on this ground, not even worthy to smell this bitter air... Worthless, isnt that what my mom called me when i fucked her sister, my aunt so to say. Man, i regretted it, or maybe not, but things changed after that. Maybe this Chocolate flavored drink is an enbodiment of my own misery? Oh wait, my name isnt even Joshua, its Josh... |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | I sat in my chair eying the drink I had not ordered, but I had to forgive the mistake as I choked back tears. In the soul crushing realization that "The Animal" Dave Batista was reduced to serving at Starbucks. It had not been so long ago that he was part of Evolution with Triple H and the Nature Boy Rick Flair. Now I look upon this once veritable mass of fury as he quietly slinks behind the counter to his dark fall from the public eye. A single tear drops from my cheek. | As a white nationalist this is proof once again that the blacks are taking over. I ordered vanilla, something distinctly white and got chocolate, something black. But maybe this has nothing to do with blacks taking over and white people being descriminated against, maybe it just has something to do with people hating me. Figured so, the moment i approached the couple on this table they left, maybe its because im black. Does my life even have any value? Yeah sure, Obama is in the white house, a black guy, but are we really the same. Im more like kakao, while he is like milk chocolate, we are a different breed. I am not even worthy to walk on this ground, not even worthy to smell this bitter air... Worthless, isnt that what my mom called me when i fucked her sister, my aunt so to say. Man, i regretted it, or maybe not, but things changed after that. Maybe this Chocolate flavored drink is an enbodiment of my own misery? Oh wait, my name isnt even Joshua, its Josh... |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | After realizing you get the wrong sort of drink, you ask to the man in anger 'What the fuck is this?!" You look up at him, only to realize Batista is serving you. (Probably typo by op for Barista... Batista is a big buff character in wwe.) You start to feel your sweat come from your skin as you slowly walk back, shaking... He lifts you up from your collar, then rips his shirt off showing his big buff abs and defined muscles. You are turned on for a second, then realize the situation you are in. After throwing you on the ground he yells "DONT INSULT MY FUCKING DRINKS!" At this point you are frantically running to the door as bystanders watch in shock, he grabs your foot, drags you back, and punches you hard across... Left, right, left, right, until you roll away wher proceeds to smash your head repeatedly against a wall. Slowly, you lose all strength in your body, and everything starts to turn dark...
You wake up in Hospital with a few family members. This is where you take your last breath.
Edit 1: I'm not fixing the grammar. | The color was off. WAY off.
Absentmindedly, I attributed it to burnt coffee. It's -always- burnt coffee, really, but this batch was more burnt. I hopped in my car and sped off, frustrated. It wasn't until I got a few blocks down that I tried it. Instantly I realized what was wrong with my drink. It wasn't what I'd ordered at all.
It still tasted pretty good, but something else about it felt off. Something about the texture, the way it drank.
Eventually it became harder and harder to breathe. Soy. Of course.
I rerouted my car toward the hospital, hoping in my desperation I could get there before the anaphylactic shock took me out entirely. I didn't have an Epi Pen with me today. Frantically I swerved through the streets, narrowly avoiding other cars as I navigated my way through the mid-morning traffic. I hit the OnStar button on my mirror as I began to fear I wasn't going to make it in time.
Gasps and wheezes were all I could get out. The operator on the other end began to panic as she heard the struggle on my end of the line. The GPS tracker in my car showing her my location, she began to cheer me on, asking me to hang in there as I heard her routing the ambulance through the local dispatcher.
My attention began to drift, I could tell that I was slowly losing consciousness. I could vaguely hear the sirens off in the distance. At this point I understood that the ambulance was closer than the hospital and tried my best to pull over. I was so out of it that I couldn't feel the brake, but I could tell I was slowing down. I pulled to the side of the road as I gently slipped into unconsciousness, car still in motion. |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | **MAN:** Excuse me, I think there's been a mistake. I ordered the double choc--
**BARISTA:** Sorry, that's for the man behind you. He has the same name as you. Here's your soy bullshit, Jebediah! And here you go with some non fat milk contraption other Jebediah.
**MAN:** Thanks. (turns) (walks towards door) (slips on puddle of spilt half and half) ARRRRRGH! MY LEG!
**BARISTA:** Whoa! You can see bone sticking out!
**MAN:** I'm hurt!
**BARISTA:** Does anyone here know CPR?
**MAN:** CPR? CALL A FREAKIN' AMBULANCE!
**BARISTA:** Hey! Anyone got a phone?
**MAN:** MINE'S ON THE FLOOR RIGHT THERE COVERED IN BLOOD DEAR GOD CALL FOR HELP!!!
**BARISTA:** So sticky! OK, just gotta swipe it open and... uh-oh.
**MAN:** HURRY UP!
**BARISTA:** There's a text here from your wife. She says she's leaving you.
**MAN:** DON'T CARE! CALL THE GODDAMN AMBULANCE!
**BARISTA:** Yes, we need an ambulance for Jedediah. No, the other one. The non fat guy, not Jebby Soy. (laughs) Yeah, uh-huh. Hey, they say they're already at your house.
**MAN:** WHAT?
**BARISTA:** The twins are dead. They were playing on the roof and snapped their neck when they fell off.
**MAN:** OH MY GOD!
**BARISTA:** But they're sending another ambulance for you, right after the clean off the front of the one that ran over your dog.
**MAN** Duke is dead, too?
**BARISTA:** Yes, but he was already dead when the ambulance ran him over. He got shot by your neighbor.
**MAN:** WHAT????
**BARISTA:** I can hear the siren now. It should be here in a-- oh, Jebby Soy. What's that? Oh, right! I get those mixed up all the time. I made two soy drinks and no non fat one.
**MAN:** I DIDN'T EVEN GET THE RIGHT COFFEE?
**BARISTA:** Whoops!
*END SCENE* | The color was off. WAY off.
Absentmindedly, I attributed it to burnt coffee. It's -always- burnt coffee, really, but this batch was more burnt. I hopped in my car and sped off, frustrated. It wasn't until I got a few blocks down that I tried it. Instantly I realized what was wrong with my drink. It wasn't what I'd ordered at all.
It still tasted pretty good, but something else about it felt off. Something about the texture, the way it drank.
Eventually it became harder and harder to breathe. Soy. Of course.
I rerouted my car toward the hospital, hoping in my desperation I could get there before the anaphylactic shock took me out entirely. I didn't have an Epi Pen with me today. Frantically I swerved through the streets, narrowly avoiding other cars as I navigated my way through the mid-morning traffic. I hit the OnStar button on my mirror as I began to fear I wasn't going to make it in time.
Gasps and wheezes were all I could get out. The operator on the other end began to panic as she heard the struggle on my end of the line. The GPS tracker in my car showing her my location, she began to cheer me on, asking me to hang in there as I heard her routing the ambulance through the local dispatcher.
My attention began to drift, I could tell that I was slowly losing consciousness. I could vaguely hear the sirens off in the distance. At this point I understood that the ambulance was closer than the hospital and tried my best to pull over. I was so out of it that I couldn't feel the brake, but I could tell I was slowing down. I pulled to the side of the road as I gently slipped into unconsciousness, car still in motion. |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | I went to starbucks this morning. I was on my phone and not really paying attention to the ba*r*ista who was serving me. What I got was not what I ordered. I turned around and started complaining loudly. That's when I realised that I was being served by WWE wrestler Ba*t*ista. His face got screwed up. He grabbed me and lifted me over his head and threw me down on the table and then poured the wrong coffee down my throat. | The color was off. WAY off.
Absentmindedly, I attributed it to burnt coffee. It's -always- burnt coffee, really, but this batch was more burnt. I hopped in my car and sped off, frustrated. It wasn't until I got a few blocks down that I tried it. Instantly I realized what was wrong with my drink. It wasn't what I'd ordered at all.
It still tasted pretty good, but something else about it felt off. Something about the texture, the way it drank.
Eventually it became harder and harder to breathe. Soy. Of course.
I rerouted my car toward the hospital, hoping in my desperation I could get there before the anaphylactic shock took me out entirely. I didn't have an Epi Pen with me today. Frantically I swerved through the streets, narrowly avoiding other cars as I navigated my way through the mid-morning traffic. I hit the OnStar button on my mirror as I began to fear I wasn't going to make it in time.
Gasps and wheezes were all I could get out. The operator on the other end began to panic as she heard the struggle on my end of the line. The GPS tracker in my car showing her my location, she began to cheer me on, asking me to hang in there as I heard her routing the ambulance through the local dispatcher.
My attention began to drift, I could tell that I was slowly losing consciousness. I could vaguely hear the sirens off in the distance. At this point I understood that the ambulance was closer than the hospital and tried my best to pull over. I was so out of it that I couldn't feel the brake, but I could tell I was slowing down. I pulled to the side of the road as I gently slipped into unconsciousness, car still in motion. |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | Lieutenant Batista getting fired from Miami-Metro, having to work at Starbucks hearing you bitch about your drink and then leaping over the counter and beating your ass sounds funny and tragic. | The color was off. WAY off.
Absentmindedly, I attributed it to burnt coffee. It's -always- burnt coffee, really, but this batch was more burnt. I hopped in my car and sped off, frustrated. It wasn't until I got a few blocks down that I tried it. Instantly I realized what was wrong with my drink. It wasn't what I'd ordered at all.
It still tasted pretty good, but something else about it felt off. Something about the texture, the way it drank.
Eventually it became harder and harder to breathe. Soy. Of course.
I rerouted my car toward the hospital, hoping in my desperation I could get there before the anaphylactic shock took me out entirely. I didn't have an Epi Pen with me today. Frantically I swerved through the streets, narrowly avoiding other cars as I navigated my way through the mid-morning traffic. I hit the OnStar button on my mirror as I began to fear I wasn't going to make it in time.
Gasps and wheezes were all I could get out. The operator on the other end began to panic as she heard the struggle on my end of the line. The GPS tracker in my car showing her my location, she began to cheer me on, asking me to hang in there as I heard her routing the ambulance through the local dispatcher.
My attention began to drift, I could tell that I was slowly losing consciousness. I could vaguely hear the sirens off in the distance. At this point I understood that the ambulance was closer than the hospital and tried my best to pull over. I was so out of it that I couldn't feel the brake, but I could tell I was slowing down. I pulled to the side of the road as I gently slipped into unconsciousness, car still in motion. |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | Starbucks Batista
http://imgur.com/65k9noU
Starbucks Batista leaned over the counter and handed me my chocolaty beverage. He must have sensed my dissatisfaction because he looked at me with the most intense "fuck off or i will eat you" type of vibe...after a few seconds of uncomfortable staring he proclaimed "Basketballs....don't hold grudges" and that was that. | The color was off. WAY off.
Absentmindedly, I attributed it to burnt coffee. It's -always- burnt coffee, really, but this batch was more burnt. I hopped in my car and sped off, frustrated. It wasn't until I got a few blocks down that I tried it. Instantly I realized what was wrong with my drink. It wasn't what I'd ordered at all.
It still tasted pretty good, but something else about it felt off. Something about the texture, the way it drank.
Eventually it became harder and harder to breathe. Soy. Of course.
I rerouted my car toward the hospital, hoping in my desperation I could get there before the anaphylactic shock took me out entirely. I didn't have an Epi Pen with me today. Frantically I swerved through the streets, narrowly avoiding other cars as I navigated my way through the mid-morning traffic. I hit the OnStar button on my mirror as I began to fear I wasn't going to make it in time.
Gasps and wheezes were all I could get out. The operator on the other end began to panic as she heard the struggle on my end of the line. The GPS tracker in my car showing her my location, she began to cheer me on, asking me to hang in there as I heard her routing the ambulance through the local dispatcher.
My attention began to drift, I could tell that I was slowly losing consciousness. I could vaguely hear the sirens off in the distance. At this point I understood that the ambulance was closer than the hospital and tried my best to pull over. I was so out of it that I couldn't feel the brake, but I could tell I was slowing down. I pulled to the side of the road as I gently slipped into unconsciousness, car still in motion. |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | I sat in my chair eying the drink I had not ordered, but I had to forgive the mistake as I choked back tears. In the soul crushing realization that "The Animal" Dave Batista was reduced to serving at Starbucks. It had not been so long ago that he was part of Evolution with Triple H and the Nature Boy Rick Flair. Now I look upon this once veritable mass of fury as he quietly slinks behind the counter to his dark fall from the public eye. A single tear drops from my cheek. | The color was off. WAY off.
Absentmindedly, I attributed it to burnt coffee. It's -always- burnt coffee, really, but this batch was more burnt. I hopped in my car and sped off, frustrated. It wasn't until I got a few blocks down that I tried it. Instantly I realized what was wrong with my drink. It wasn't what I'd ordered at all.
It still tasted pretty good, but something else about it felt off. Something about the texture, the way it drank.
Eventually it became harder and harder to breathe. Soy. Of course.
I rerouted my car toward the hospital, hoping in my desperation I could get there before the anaphylactic shock took me out entirely. I didn't have an Epi Pen with me today. Frantically I swerved through the streets, narrowly avoiding other cars as I navigated my way through the mid-morning traffic. I hit the OnStar button on my mirror as I began to fear I wasn't going to make it in time.
Gasps and wheezes were all I could get out. The operator on the other end began to panic as she heard the struggle on my end of the line. The GPS tracker in my car showing her my location, she began to cheer me on, asking me to hang in there as I heard her routing the ambulance through the local dispatcher.
My attention began to drift, I could tell that I was slowly losing consciousness. I could vaguely hear the sirens off in the distance. At this point I understood that the ambulance was closer than the hospital and tried my best to pull over. I was so out of it that I couldn't feel the brake, but I could tell I was slowing down. I pulled to the side of the road as I gently slipped into unconsciousness, car still in motion. |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | After realizing you get the wrong sort of drink, you ask to the man in anger 'What the fuck is this?!" You look up at him, only to realize Batista is serving you. (Probably typo by op for Barista... Batista is a big buff character in wwe.) You start to feel your sweat come from your skin as you slowly walk back, shaking... He lifts you up from your collar, then rips his shirt off showing his big buff abs and defined muscles. You are turned on for a second, then realize the situation you are in. After throwing you on the ground he yells "DONT INSULT MY FUCKING DRINKS!" At this point you are frantically running to the door as bystanders watch in shock, he grabs your foot, drags you back, and punches you hard across... Left, right, left, right, until you roll away wher proceeds to smash your head repeatedly against a wall. Slowly, you lose all strength in your body, and everything starts to turn dark...
You wake up in Hospital with a few family members. This is where you take your last breath.
Edit 1: I'm not fixing the grammar. | As I pulled away from the drive-thru and took my first sip, it quickly hit me that this wasn't the Vanilla Light Frappuccino that I was used to. Should I turn around and go back to get my rightfully deserved order? Oh fuck, what does it matter anyway? My life has been a slow decline leading to this low of all lows, a fucking chocolate chip creme frap of all things.
This sweet reckoning isn't going to make things worse. How could it? It certainly isn't making things better though. Today was the day. I was finally turning things around; just let me get some caffeine in me first. That'll be a great start to the day and I can finally do something. Finally forget.
...but no. Here I am, sugar overdose in my hand. I can't even drink this thing! I'm not going to be productive today, that's for sure. Maybe tomorrow...Oh fuck, I've been saying that for weeks, months even. Why bother trying? Tomorrow will just be another double chocolaty chip kick in the face. This may have been the final blow, the catalyst to my undoing. It was inevitable. Sink too deep and you'll eventually hit the bottom.
There's no coming back up now, not from this bottomless chocolaty well I've fallen into. It's getting dark, my vision's blurry, I can't think straight. Why am I here? Why the fuck did he give me this chocolate chip creme frappuccino like I'm some 14 year old girl. Is that what I've been reduced to in this world?
As I step off the chair and the rope tightens around my neck, of course it spins me around to stare at my own personal end: that icy drink slowly melting on my bedside table. In these last dying moments, I can't help but think: Who fucking drinks a Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuccino anyway? |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | **MAN:** Excuse me, I think there's been a mistake. I ordered the double choc--
**BARISTA:** Sorry, that's for the man behind you. He has the same name as you. Here's your soy bullshit, Jebediah! And here you go with some non fat milk contraption other Jebediah.
**MAN:** Thanks. (turns) (walks towards door) (slips on puddle of spilt half and half) ARRRRRGH! MY LEG!
**BARISTA:** Whoa! You can see bone sticking out!
**MAN:** I'm hurt!
**BARISTA:** Does anyone here know CPR?
**MAN:** CPR? CALL A FREAKIN' AMBULANCE!
**BARISTA:** Hey! Anyone got a phone?
**MAN:** MINE'S ON THE FLOOR RIGHT THERE COVERED IN BLOOD DEAR GOD CALL FOR HELP!!!
**BARISTA:** So sticky! OK, just gotta swipe it open and... uh-oh.
**MAN:** HURRY UP!
**BARISTA:** There's a text here from your wife. She says she's leaving you.
**MAN:** DON'T CARE! CALL THE GODDAMN AMBULANCE!
**BARISTA:** Yes, we need an ambulance for Jedediah. No, the other one. The non fat guy, not Jebby Soy. (laughs) Yeah, uh-huh. Hey, they say they're already at your house.
**MAN:** WHAT?
**BARISTA:** The twins are dead. They were playing on the roof and snapped their neck when they fell off.
**MAN:** OH MY GOD!
**BARISTA:** But they're sending another ambulance for you, right after the clean off the front of the one that ran over your dog.
**MAN** Duke is dead, too?
**BARISTA:** Yes, but he was already dead when the ambulance ran him over. He got shot by your neighbor.
**MAN:** WHAT????
**BARISTA:** I can hear the siren now. It should be here in a-- oh, Jebby Soy. What's that? Oh, right! I get those mixed up all the time. I made two soy drinks and no non fat one.
**MAN:** I DIDN'T EVEN GET THE RIGHT COFFEE?
**BARISTA:** Whoops!
*END SCENE* | As I pulled away from the drive-thru and took my first sip, it quickly hit me that this wasn't the Vanilla Light Frappuccino that I was used to. Should I turn around and go back to get my rightfully deserved order? Oh fuck, what does it matter anyway? My life has been a slow decline leading to this low of all lows, a fucking chocolate chip creme frap of all things.
This sweet reckoning isn't going to make things worse. How could it? It certainly isn't making things better though. Today was the day. I was finally turning things around; just let me get some caffeine in me first. That'll be a great start to the day and I can finally do something. Finally forget.
...but no. Here I am, sugar overdose in my hand. I can't even drink this thing! I'm not going to be productive today, that's for sure. Maybe tomorrow...Oh fuck, I've been saying that for weeks, months even. Why bother trying? Tomorrow will just be another double chocolaty chip kick in the face. This may have been the final blow, the catalyst to my undoing. It was inevitable. Sink too deep and you'll eventually hit the bottom.
There's no coming back up now, not from this bottomless chocolaty well I've fallen into. It's getting dark, my vision's blurry, I can't think straight. Why am I here? Why the fuck did he give me this chocolate chip creme frappuccino like I'm some 14 year old girl. Is that what I've been reduced to in this world?
As I step off the chair and the rope tightens around my neck, of course it spins me around to stare at my own personal end: that icy drink slowly melting on my bedside table. In these last dying moments, I can't help but think: Who fucking drinks a Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuccino anyway? |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | I went to starbucks this morning. I was on my phone and not really paying attention to the ba*r*ista who was serving me. What I got was not what I ordered. I turned around and started complaining loudly. That's when I realised that I was being served by WWE wrestler Ba*t*ista. His face got screwed up. He grabbed me and lifted me over his head and threw me down on the table and then poured the wrong coffee down my throat. | As I pulled away from the drive-thru and took my first sip, it quickly hit me that this wasn't the Vanilla Light Frappuccino that I was used to. Should I turn around and go back to get my rightfully deserved order? Oh fuck, what does it matter anyway? My life has been a slow decline leading to this low of all lows, a fucking chocolate chip creme frap of all things.
This sweet reckoning isn't going to make things worse. How could it? It certainly isn't making things better though. Today was the day. I was finally turning things around; just let me get some caffeine in me first. That'll be a great start to the day and I can finally do something. Finally forget.
...but no. Here I am, sugar overdose in my hand. I can't even drink this thing! I'm not going to be productive today, that's for sure. Maybe tomorrow...Oh fuck, I've been saying that for weeks, months even. Why bother trying? Tomorrow will just be another double chocolaty chip kick in the face. This may have been the final blow, the catalyst to my undoing. It was inevitable. Sink too deep and you'll eventually hit the bottom.
There's no coming back up now, not from this bottomless chocolaty well I've fallen into. It's getting dark, my vision's blurry, I can't think straight. Why am I here? Why the fuck did he give me this chocolate chip creme frappuccino like I'm some 14 year old girl. Is that what I've been reduced to in this world?
As I step off the chair and the rope tightens around my neck, of course it spins me around to stare at my own personal end: that icy drink slowly melting on my bedside table. In these last dying moments, I can't help but think: Who fucking drinks a Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuccino anyway? |
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | Lieutenant Batista getting fired from Miami-Metro, having to work at Starbucks hearing you bitch about your drink and then leaping over the counter and beating your ass sounds funny and tragic. | As I pulled away from the drive-thru and took my first sip, it quickly hit me that this wasn't the Vanilla Light Frappuccino that I was used to. Should I turn around and go back to get my rightfully deserved order? Oh fuck, what does it matter anyway? My life has been a slow decline leading to this low of all lows, a fucking chocolate chip creme frap of all things.
This sweet reckoning isn't going to make things worse. How could it? It certainly isn't making things better though. Today was the day. I was finally turning things around; just let me get some caffeine in me first. That'll be a great start to the day and I can finally do something. Finally forget.
...but no. Here I am, sugar overdose in my hand. I can't even drink this thing! I'm not going to be productive today, that's for sure. Maybe tomorrow...Oh fuck, I've been saying that for weeks, months even. Why bother trying? Tomorrow will just be another double chocolaty chip kick in the face. This may have been the final blow, the catalyst to my undoing. It was inevitable. Sink too deep and you'll eventually hit the bottom.
There's no coming back up now, not from this bottomless chocolaty well I've fallen into. It's getting dark, my vision's blurry, I can't think straight. Why am I here? Why the fuck did he give me this chocolate chip creme frappuccino like I'm some 14 year old girl. Is that what I've been reduced to in this world?
As I step off the chair and the rope tightens around my neck, of course it spins me around to stare at my own personal end: that icy drink slowly melting on my bedside table. In these last dying moments, I can't help but think: Who fucking drinks a Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuccino anyway? |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | Starbucks Batista
http://imgur.com/65k9noU
Starbucks Batista leaned over the counter and handed me my chocolaty beverage. He must have sensed my dissatisfaction because he looked at me with the most intense "fuck off or i will eat you" type of vibe...after a few seconds of uncomfortable staring he proclaimed "Basketballs....don't hold grudges" and that was that. | As I pulled away from the drive-thru and took my first sip, it quickly hit me that this wasn't the Vanilla Light Frappuccino that I was used to. Should I turn around and go back to get my rightfully deserved order? Oh fuck, what does it matter anyway? My life has been a slow decline leading to this low of all lows, a fucking chocolate chip creme frap of all things.
This sweet reckoning isn't going to make things worse. How could it? It certainly isn't making things better though. Today was the day. I was finally turning things around; just let me get some caffeine in me first. That'll be a great start to the day and I can finally do something. Finally forget.
...but no. Here I am, sugar overdose in my hand. I can't even drink this thing! I'm not going to be productive today, that's for sure. Maybe tomorrow...Oh fuck, I've been saying that for weeks, months even. Why bother trying? Tomorrow will just be another double chocolaty chip kick in the face. This may have been the final blow, the catalyst to my undoing. It was inevitable. Sink too deep and you'll eventually hit the bottom.
There's no coming back up now, not from this bottomless chocolaty well I've fallen into. It's getting dark, my vision's blurry, I can't think straight. Why am I here? Why the fuck did he give me this chocolate chip creme frappuccino like I'm some 14 year old girl. Is that what I've been reduced to in this world?
As I step off the chair and the rope tightens around my neck, of course it spins me around to stare at my own personal end: that icy drink slowly melting on my bedside table. In these last dying moments, I can't help but think: Who fucking drinks a Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuccino anyway? |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | I sat in my chair eying the drink I had not ordered, but I had to forgive the mistake as I choked back tears. In the soul crushing realization that "The Animal" Dave Batista was reduced to serving at Starbucks. It had not been so long ago that he was part of Evolution with Triple H and the Nature Boy Rick Flair. Now I look upon this once veritable mass of fury as he quietly slinks behind the counter to his dark fall from the public eye. A single tear drops from my cheek. | As I pulled away from the drive-thru and took my first sip, it quickly hit me that this wasn't the Vanilla Light Frappuccino that I was used to. Should I turn around and go back to get my rightfully deserved order? Oh fuck, what does it matter anyway? My life has been a slow decline leading to this low of all lows, a fucking chocolate chip creme frap of all things.
This sweet reckoning isn't going to make things worse. How could it? It certainly isn't making things better though. Today was the day. I was finally turning things around; just let me get some caffeine in me first. That'll be a great start to the day and I can finally do something. Finally forget.
...but no. Here I am, sugar overdose in my hand. I can't even drink this thing! I'm not going to be productive today, that's for sure. Maybe tomorrow...Oh fuck, I've been saying that for weeks, months even. Why bother trying? Tomorrow will just be another double chocolaty chip kick in the face. This may have been the final blow, the catalyst to my undoing. It was inevitable. Sink too deep and you'll eventually hit the bottom.
There's no coming back up now, not from this bottomless chocolaty well I've fallen into. It's getting dark, my vision's blurry, I can't think straight. Why am I here? Why the fuck did he give me this chocolate chip creme frappuccino like I'm some 14 year old girl. Is that what I've been reduced to in this world?
As I step off the chair and the rope tightens around my neck, of course it spins me around to stare at my own personal end: that icy drink slowly melting on my bedside table. In these last dying moments, I can't help but think: Who fucking drinks a Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuccino anyway? |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | After realizing you get the wrong sort of drink, you ask to the man in anger 'What the fuck is this?!" You look up at him, only to realize Batista is serving you. (Probably typo by op for Barista... Batista is a big buff character in wwe.) You start to feel your sweat come from your skin as you slowly walk back, shaking... He lifts you up from your collar, then rips his shirt off showing his big buff abs and defined muscles. You are turned on for a second, then realize the situation you are in. After throwing you on the ground he yells "DONT INSULT MY FUCKING DRINKS!" At this point you are frantically running to the door as bystanders watch in shock, he grabs your foot, drags you back, and punches you hard across... Left, right, left, right, until you roll away wher proceeds to smash your head repeatedly against a wall. Slowly, you lose all strength in your body, and everything starts to turn dark...
You wake up in Hospital with a few family members. This is where you take your last breath.
Edit 1: I'm not fixing the grammar. | I'd had all I could take. First I walk in on my wife and my best friend sleeping together. Then I get the notice via email that I have been laid off due to a corporate merger. "Fuck it" I thought. I just needed to get away and clear my mind. Coffee always cheered me up. So, oblivious to the world around me I climb into my car and head to Starbucks. *BANG* I get side swiped along the way and blow a tire out. "Why me, why today?!? What did I do?!?!" I get out and asses the damage. Not only has the tire blown but when I look at the spare its flat. I push my car to the side and look up. I'm at James and 1st street, only six more blocks to Starbucks. As I walk I think back in misery on today's events. Now more than ever I needed a visit with my shrink but having been laid off from work on the last day of the month I would have no insurance to cover the co-pay. As I descend into misery holding back tears I look at that green sign hoping I've reached some sort of salvation for the day. As my turn at the counter approaches I order my drink. "Cafe Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk please." I pay and step to the side to wait. My thoughts continue to dwell on the day. "My best friend, my wife, my job, my car? All in the space of an hour?" what did I do to deserve this, how am I going to keep going? Where am I going to go at this point? Just then I hear the barista announce "Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuccino for Will". "Thats not right" I think to myself. I look around quickly and notice I'm the only one waiting on a drink at this point. Again the barista announces "Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuccino for Will." I walk up say thank you and take the drink. "That's it, not even the barista cares enough. I'm done." I blank out the world and begin to walk outside. In the distance I hear someone calling my name but I'm already gone. I take one sip of the drink and step in front of the oncoming bus." Maybe if I'd heard the person calling my name I would have heard my drink got switched with another Will in Drive-through. Too late now I guess. |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | **MAN:** Excuse me, I think there's been a mistake. I ordered the double choc--
**BARISTA:** Sorry, that's for the man behind you. He has the same name as you. Here's your soy bullshit, Jebediah! And here you go with some non fat milk contraption other Jebediah.
**MAN:** Thanks. (turns) (walks towards door) (slips on puddle of spilt half and half) ARRRRRGH! MY LEG!
**BARISTA:** Whoa! You can see bone sticking out!
**MAN:** I'm hurt!
**BARISTA:** Does anyone here know CPR?
**MAN:** CPR? CALL A FREAKIN' AMBULANCE!
**BARISTA:** Hey! Anyone got a phone?
**MAN:** MINE'S ON THE FLOOR RIGHT THERE COVERED IN BLOOD DEAR GOD CALL FOR HELP!!!
**BARISTA:** So sticky! OK, just gotta swipe it open and... uh-oh.
**MAN:** HURRY UP!
**BARISTA:** There's a text here from your wife. She says she's leaving you.
**MAN:** DON'T CARE! CALL THE GODDAMN AMBULANCE!
**BARISTA:** Yes, we need an ambulance for Jedediah. No, the other one. The non fat guy, not Jebby Soy. (laughs) Yeah, uh-huh. Hey, they say they're already at your house.
**MAN:** WHAT?
**BARISTA:** The twins are dead. They were playing on the roof and snapped their neck when they fell off.
**MAN:** OH MY GOD!
**BARISTA:** But they're sending another ambulance for you, right after the clean off the front of the one that ran over your dog.
**MAN** Duke is dead, too?
**BARISTA:** Yes, but he was already dead when the ambulance ran him over. He got shot by your neighbor.
**MAN:** WHAT????
**BARISTA:** I can hear the siren now. It should be here in a-- oh, Jebby Soy. What's that? Oh, right! I get those mixed up all the time. I made two soy drinks and no non fat one.
**MAN:** I DIDN'T EVEN GET THE RIGHT COFFEE?
**BARISTA:** Whoops!
*END SCENE* | I'd had all I could take. First I walk in on my wife and my best friend sleeping together. Then I get the notice via email that I have been laid off due to a corporate merger. "Fuck it" I thought. I just needed to get away and clear my mind. Coffee always cheered me up. So, oblivious to the world around me I climb into my car and head to Starbucks. *BANG* I get side swiped along the way and blow a tire out. "Why me, why today?!? What did I do?!?!" I get out and asses the damage. Not only has the tire blown but when I look at the spare its flat. I push my car to the side and look up. I'm at James and 1st street, only six more blocks to Starbucks. As I walk I think back in misery on today's events. Now more than ever I needed a visit with my shrink but having been laid off from work on the last day of the month I would have no insurance to cover the co-pay. As I descend into misery holding back tears I look at that green sign hoping I've reached some sort of salvation for the day. As my turn at the counter approaches I order my drink. "Cafe Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk please." I pay and step to the side to wait. My thoughts continue to dwell on the day. "My best friend, my wife, my job, my car? All in the space of an hour?" what did I do to deserve this, how am I going to keep going? Where am I going to go at this point? Just then I hear the barista announce "Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuccino for Will". "Thats not right" I think to myself. I look around quickly and notice I'm the only one waiting on a drink at this point. Again the barista announces "Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuccino for Will." I walk up say thank you and take the drink. "That's it, not even the barista cares enough. I'm done." I blank out the world and begin to walk outside. In the distance I hear someone calling my name but I'm already gone. I take one sip of the drink and step in front of the oncoming bus." Maybe if I'd heard the person calling my name I would have heard my drink got switched with another Will in Drive-through. Too late now I guess. |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | I went to starbucks this morning. I was on my phone and not really paying attention to the ba*r*ista who was serving me. What I got was not what I ordered. I turned around and started complaining loudly. That's when I realised that I was being served by WWE wrestler Ba*t*ista. His face got screwed up. He grabbed me and lifted me over his head and threw me down on the table and then poured the wrong coffee down my throat. | I'd had all I could take. First I walk in on my wife and my best friend sleeping together. Then I get the notice via email that I have been laid off due to a corporate merger. "Fuck it" I thought. I just needed to get away and clear my mind. Coffee always cheered me up. So, oblivious to the world around me I climb into my car and head to Starbucks. *BANG* I get side swiped along the way and blow a tire out. "Why me, why today?!? What did I do?!?!" I get out and asses the damage. Not only has the tire blown but when I look at the spare its flat. I push my car to the side and look up. I'm at James and 1st street, only six more blocks to Starbucks. As I walk I think back in misery on today's events. Now more than ever I needed a visit with my shrink but having been laid off from work on the last day of the month I would have no insurance to cover the co-pay. As I descend into misery holding back tears I look at that green sign hoping I've reached some sort of salvation for the day. As my turn at the counter approaches I order my drink. "Cafe Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk please." I pay and step to the side to wait. My thoughts continue to dwell on the day. "My best friend, my wife, my job, my car? All in the space of an hour?" what did I do to deserve this, how am I going to keep going? Where am I going to go at this point? Just then I hear the barista announce "Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuccino for Will". "Thats not right" I think to myself. I look around quickly and notice I'm the only one waiting on a drink at this point. Again the barista announces "Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuccino for Will." I walk up say thank you and take the drink. "That's it, not even the barista cares enough. I'm done." I blank out the world and begin to walk outside. In the distance I hear someone calling my name but I'm already gone. I take one sip of the drink and step in front of the oncoming bus." Maybe if I'd heard the person calling my name I would have heard my drink got switched with another Will in Drive-through. Too late now I guess. |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | Lieutenant Batista getting fired from Miami-Metro, having to work at Starbucks hearing you bitch about your drink and then leaping over the counter and beating your ass sounds funny and tragic. | I'd had all I could take. First I walk in on my wife and my best friend sleeping together. Then I get the notice via email that I have been laid off due to a corporate merger. "Fuck it" I thought. I just needed to get away and clear my mind. Coffee always cheered me up. So, oblivious to the world around me I climb into my car and head to Starbucks. *BANG* I get side swiped along the way and blow a tire out. "Why me, why today?!? What did I do?!?!" I get out and asses the damage. Not only has the tire blown but when I look at the spare its flat. I push my car to the side and look up. I'm at James and 1st street, only six more blocks to Starbucks. As I walk I think back in misery on today's events. Now more than ever I needed a visit with my shrink but having been laid off from work on the last day of the month I would have no insurance to cover the co-pay. As I descend into misery holding back tears I look at that green sign hoping I've reached some sort of salvation for the day. As my turn at the counter approaches I order my drink. "Cafe Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk please." I pay and step to the side to wait. My thoughts continue to dwell on the day. "My best friend, my wife, my job, my car? All in the space of an hour?" what did I do to deserve this, how am I going to keep going? Where am I going to go at this point? Just then I hear the barista announce "Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuccino for Will". "Thats not right" I think to myself. I look around quickly and notice I'm the only one waiting on a drink at this point. Again the barista announces "Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuccino for Will." I walk up say thank you and take the drink. "That's it, not even the barista cares enough. I'm done." I blank out the world and begin to walk outside. In the distance I hear someone calling my name but I'm already gone. I take one sip of the drink and step in front of the oncoming bus." Maybe if I'd heard the person calling my name I would have heard my drink got switched with another Will in Drive-through. Too late now I guess. |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | Starbucks Batista
http://imgur.com/65k9noU
Starbucks Batista leaned over the counter and handed me my chocolaty beverage. He must have sensed my dissatisfaction because he looked at me with the most intense "fuck off or i will eat you" type of vibe...after a few seconds of uncomfortable staring he proclaimed "Basketballs....don't hold grudges" and that was that. | I'd had all I could take. First I walk in on my wife and my best friend sleeping together. Then I get the notice via email that I have been laid off due to a corporate merger. "Fuck it" I thought. I just needed to get away and clear my mind. Coffee always cheered me up. So, oblivious to the world around me I climb into my car and head to Starbucks. *BANG* I get side swiped along the way and blow a tire out. "Why me, why today?!? What did I do?!?!" I get out and asses the damage. Not only has the tire blown but when I look at the spare its flat. I push my car to the side and look up. I'm at James and 1st street, only six more blocks to Starbucks. As I walk I think back in misery on today's events. Now more than ever I needed a visit with my shrink but having been laid off from work on the last day of the month I would have no insurance to cover the co-pay. As I descend into misery holding back tears I look at that green sign hoping I've reached some sort of salvation for the day. As my turn at the counter approaches I order my drink. "Cafe Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk please." I pay and step to the side to wait. My thoughts continue to dwell on the day. "My best friend, my wife, my job, my car? All in the space of an hour?" what did I do to deserve this, how am I going to keep going? Where am I going to go at this point? Just then I hear the barista announce "Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuccino for Will". "Thats not right" I think to myself. I look around quickly and notice I'm the only one waiting on a drink at this point. Again the barista announces "Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuccino for Will." I walk up say thank you and take the drink. "That's it, not even the barista cares enough. I'm done." I blank out the world and begin to walk outside. In the distance I hear someone calling my name but I'm already gone. I take one sip of the drink and step in front of the oncoming bus." Maybe if I'd heard the person calling my name I would have heard my drink got switched with another Will in Drive-through. Too late now I guess. |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | I sat in my chair eying the drink I had not ordered, but I had to forgive the mistake as I choked back tears. In the soul crushing realization that "The Animal" Dave Batista was reduced to serving at Starbucks. It had not been so long ago that he was part of Evolution with Triple H and the Nature Boy Rick Flair. Now I look upon this once veritable mass of fury as he quietly slinks behind the counter to his dark fall from the public eye. A single tear drops from my cheek. | I'd had all I could take. First I walk in on my wife and my best friend sleeping together. Then I get the notice via email that I have been laid off due to a corporate merger. "Fuck it" I thought. I just needed to get away and clear my mind. Coffee always cheered me up. So, oblivious to the world around me I climb into my car and head to Starbucks. *BANG* I get side swiped along the way and blow a tire out. "Why me, why today?!? What did I do?!?!" I get out and asses the damage. Not only has the tire blown but when I look at the spare its flat. I push my car to the side and look up. I'm at James and 1st street, only six more blocks to Starbucks. As I walk I think back in misery on today's events. Now more than ever I needed a visit with my shrink but having been laid off from work on the last day of the month I would have no insurance to cover the co-pay. As I descend into misery holding back tears I look at that green sign hoping I've reached some sort of salvation for the day. As my turn at the counter approaches I order my drink. "Cafe Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk please." I pay and step to the side to wait. My thoughts continue to dwell on the day. "My best friend, my wife, my job, my car? All in the space of an hour?" what did I do to deserve this, how am I going to keep going? Where am I going to go at this point? Just then I hear the barista announce "Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuccino for Will". "Thats not right" I think to myself. I look around quickly and notice I'm the only one waiting on a drink at this point. Again the barista announces "Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuccino for Will." I walk up say thank you and take the drink. "That's it, not even the barista cares enough. I'm done." I blank out the world and begin to walk outside. In the distance I hear someone calling my name but I'm already gone. I take one sip of the drink and step in front of the oncoming bus." Maybe if I'd heard the person calling my name I would have heard my drink got switched with another Will in Drive-through. Too late now I guess. |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | After realizing you get the wrong sort of drink, you ask to the man in anger 'What the fuck is this?!" You look up at him, only to realize Batista is serving you. (Probably typo by op for Barista... Batista is a big buff character in wwe.) You start to feel your sweat come from your skin as you slowly walk back, shaking... He lifts you up from your collar, then rips his shirt off showing his big buff abs and defined muscles. You are turned on for a second, then realize the situation you are in. After throwing you on the ground he yells "DONT INSULT MY FUCKING DRINKS!" At this point you are frantically running to the door as bystanders watch in shock, he grabs your foot, drags you back, and punches you hard across... Left, right, left, right, until you roll away wher proceeds to smash your head repeatedly against a wall. Slowly, you lose all strength in your body, and everything starts to turn dark...
You wake up in Hospital with a few family members. This is where you take your last breath.
Edit 1: I'm not fixing the grammar. | So I'm at the counter placing my order, and I'm like "Drax?" and he tells me he's researching a new role, and to be cool. We talk for a bit, and he knew the drill, from Bryan to Bluetista. His eyes drift behind me, and I stop talking.
"I'm sorry, one of my best friends, actually my ex-wife, her cancer returned. I just found out this morning."
He handed me my drink. Walking away, I could tell something wasn't right..... |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | **MAN:** Excuse me, I think there's been a mistake. I ordered the double choc--
**BARISTA:** Sorry, that's for the man behind you. He has the same name as you. Here's your soy bullshit, Jebediah! And here you go with some non fat milk contraption other Jebediah.
**MAN:** Thanks. (turns) (walks towards door) (slips on puddle of spilt half and half) ARRRRRGH! MY LEG!
**BARISTA:** Whoa! You can see bone sticking out!
**MAN:** I'm hurt!
**BARISTA:** Does anyone here know CPR?
**MAN:** CPR? CALL A FREAKIN' AMBULANCE!
**BARISTA:** Hey! Anyone got a phone?
**MAN:** MINE'S ON THE FLOOR RIGHT THERE COVERED IN BLOOD DEAR GOD CALL FOR HELP!!!
**BARISTA:** So sticky! OK, just gotta swipe it open and... uh-oh.
**MAN:** HURRY UP!
**BARISTA:** There's a text here from your wife. She says she's leaving you.
**MAN:** DON'T CARE! CALL THE GODDAMN AMBULANCE!
**BARISTA:** Yes, we need an ambulance for Jedediah. No, the other one. The non fat guy, not Jebby Soy. (laughs) Yeah, uh-huh. Hey, they say they're already at your house.
**MAN:** WHAT?
**BARISTA:** The twins are dead. They were playing on the roof and snapped their neck when they fell off.
**MAN:** OH MY GOD!
**BARISTA:** But they're sending another ambulance for you, right after the clean off the front of the one that ran over your dog.
**MAN** Duke is dead, too?
**BARISTA:** Yes, but he was already dead when the ambulance ran him over. He got shot by your neighbor.
**MAN:** WHAT????
**BARISTA:** I can hear the siren now. It should be here in a-- oh, Jebby Soy. What's that? Oh, right! I get those mixed up all the time. I made two soy drinks and no non fat one.
**MAN:** I DIDN'T EVEN GET THE RIGHT COFFEE?
**BARISTA:** Whoops!
*END SCENE* | So I'm at the counter placing my order, and I'm like "Drax?" and he tells me he's researching a new role, and to be cool. We talk for a bit, and he knew the drill, from Bryan to Bluetista. His eyes drift behind me, and I stop talking.
"I'm sorry, one of my best friends, actually my ex-wife, her cancer returned. I just found out this morning."
He handed me my drink. Walking away, I could tell something wasn't right..... |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | I went to starbucks this morning. I was on my phone and not really paying attention to the ba*r*ista who was serving me. What I got was not what I ordered. I turned around and started complaining loudly. That's when I realised that I was being served by WWE wrestler Ba*t*ista. His face got screwed up. He grabbed me and lifted me over his head and threw me down on the table and then poured the wrong coffee down my throat. | So I'm at the counter placing my order, and I'm like "Drax?" and he tells me he's researching a new role, and to be cool. We talk for a bit, and he knew the drill, from Bryan to Bluetista. His eyes drift behind me, and I stop talking.
"I'm sorry, one of my best friends, actually my ex-wife, her cancer returned. I just found out this morning."
He handed me my drink. Walking away, I could tell something wasn't right..... |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | Lieutenant Batista getting fired from Miami-Metro, having to work at Starbucks hearing you bitch about your drink and then leaping over the counter and beating your ass sounds funny and tragic. | So I'm at the counter placing my order, and I'm like "Drax?" and he tells me he's researching a new role, and to be cool. We talk for a bit, and he knew the drill, from Bryan to Bluetista. His eyes drift behind me, and I stop talking.
"I'm sorry, one of my best friends, actually my ex-wife, her cancer returned. I just found out this morning."
He handed me my drink. Walking away, I could tell something wasn't right..... |
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | Starbucks Batista
http://imgur.com/65k9noU
Starbucks Batista leaned over the counter and handed me my chocolaty beverage. He must have sensed my dissatisfaction because he looked at me with the most intense "fuck off or i will eat you" type of vibe...after a few seconds of uncomfortable staring he proclaimed "Basketballs....don't hold grudges" and that was that. | So I'm at the counter placing my order, and I'm like "Drax?" and he tells me he's researching a new role, and to be cool. We talk for a bit, and he knew the drill, from Bryan to Bluetista. His eyes drift behind me, and I stop talking.
"I'm sorry, one of my best friends, actually my ex-wife, her cancer returned. I just found out this morning."
He handed me my drink. Walking away, I could tell something wasn't right..... |
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | I sat in my chair eying the drink I had not ordered, but I had to forgive the mistake as I choked back tears. In the soul crushing realization that "The Animal" Dave Batista was reduced to serving at Starbucks. It had not been so long ago that he was part of Evolution with Triple H and the Nature Boy Rick Flair. Now I look upon this once veritable mass of fury as he quietly slinks behind the counter to his dark fall from the public eye. A single tear drops from my cheek. | So I'm at the counter placing my order, and I'm like "Drax?" and he tells me he's researching a new role, and to be cool. We talk for a bit, and he knew the drill, from Bryan to Bluetista. His eyes drift behind me, and I stop talking.
"I'm sorry, one of my best friends, actually my ex-wife, her cancer returned. I just found out this morning."
He handed me my drink. Walking away, I could tell something wasn't right..... |
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | After realizing you get the wrong sort of drink, you ask to the man in anger 'What the fuck is this?!" You look up at him, only to realize Batista is serving you. (Probably typo by op for Barista... Batista is a big buff character in wwe.) You start to feel your sweat come from your skin as you slowly walk back, shaking... He lifts you up from your collar, then rips his shirt off showing his big buff abs and defined muscles. You are turned on for a second, then realize the situation you are in. After throwing you on the ground he yells "DONT INSULT MY FUCKING DRINKS!" At this point you are frantically running to the door as bystanders watch in shock, he grabs your foot, drags you back, and punches you hard across... Left, right, left, right, until you roll away wher proceeds to smash your head repeatedly against a wall. Slowly, you lose all strength in your body, and everything starts to turn dark...
You wake up in Hospital with a few family members. This is where you take your last breath.
Edit 1: I'm not fixing the grammar. | "Mommy, why they are taking daddy away?"
Mary-Ann, holding back her tears and trying to act normal, took little Johnny in her arms. "Sweetheart, you are a bit young to understand this... but daddy is going to go for a little holiday."
"Is daddy going to Disneyland?"
The years he had spent working for the company had turned Terry into a bald and bitter fat old man. Even if he was just forty-three, he looked fifty. If someone told you he used to be a quarterback in high school, you'd call them a liar.
"Ma'am", said the officer. "I'm sorry."
Starbucks coming to the city had forced the local coffee shop to quit the business just weeks before, leaving Terry and his co-workers unemployed. His younger colleagues had had better luck finding job at the new place, but Terry hadn't been as lucky - until today.
"Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino. No fat milk."
Terry couldn't believe his ears when he heard the news. The local high school needed a janitor and they actually had called him -- and asked to come in for an interview! So, naturally, it was time for a small celebration in the form of a good ol' Frappuccino.
"That'll be seven twenty!"
Terry thanked, smiled and took a sip. He knew this would change everything. He needed a change in his life and this was it. He'd start hitting the gym again, spend time with Timmy and Johnny and his wife, go fishing with friends, start bowling and...
"Die? He died?! From soy milk? I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry," said the Starbucks barrista and collapsed. "Oh God no. I mixed up the orders and did him a Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy milk... oh I'm so fucking sorry. Oh fuck me." |
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | **MAN:** Excuse me, I think there's been a mistake. I ordered the double choc--
**BARISTA:** Sorry, that's for the man behind you. He has the same name as you. Here's your soy bullshit, Jebediah! And here you go with some non fat milk contraption other Jebediah.
**MAN:** Thanks. (turns) (walks towards door) (slips on puddle of spilt half and half) ARRRRRGH! MY LEG!
**BARISTA:** Whoa! You can see bone sticking out!
**MAN:** I'm hurt!
**BARISTA:** Does anyone here know CPR?
**MAN:** CPR? CALL A FREAKIN' AMBULANCE!
**BARISTA:** Hey! Anyone got a phone?
**MAN:** MINE'S ON THE FLOOR RIGHT THERE COVERED IN BLOOD DEAR GOD CALL FOR HELP!!!
**BARISTA:** So sticky! OK, just gotta swipe it open and... uh-oh.
**MAN:** HURRY UP!
**BARISTA:** There's a text here from your wife. She says she's leaving you.
**MAN:** DON'T CARE! CALL THE GODDAMN AMBULANCE!
**BARISTA:** Yes, we need an ambulance for Jedediah. No, the other one. The non fat guy, not Jebby Soy. (laughs) Yeah, uh-huh. Hey, they say they're already at your house.
**MAN:** WHAT?
**BARISTA:** The twins are dead. They were playing on the roof and snapped their neck when they fell off.
**MAN:** OH MY GOD!
**BARISTA:** But they're sending another ambulance for you, right after the clean off the front of the one that ran over your dog.
**MAN** Duke is dead, too?
**BARISTA:** Yes, but he was already dead when the ambulance ran him over. He got shot by your neighbor.
**MAN:** WHAT????
**BARISTA:** I can hear the siren now. It should be here in a-- oh, Jebby Soy. What's that? Oh, right! I get those mixed up all the time. I made two soy drinks and no non fat one.
**MAN:** I DIDN'T EVEN GET THE RIGHT COFFEE?
**BARISTA:** Whoops!
*END SCENE* | "Mommy, why they are taking daddy away?"
Mary-Ann, holding back her tears and trying to act normal, took little Johnny in her arms. "Sweetheart, you are a bit young to understand this... but daddy is going to go for a little holiday."
"Is daddy going to Disneyland?"
The years he had spent working for the company had turned Terry into a bald and bitter fat old man. Even if he was just forty-three, he looked fifty. If someone told you he used to be a quarterback in high school, you'd call them a liar.
"Ma'am", said the officer. "I'm sorry."
Starbucks coming to the city had forced the local coffee shop to quit the business just weeks before, leaving Terry and his co-workers unemployed. His younger colleagues had had better luck finding job at the new place, but Terry hadn't been as lucky - until today.
"Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino. No fat milk."
Terry couldn't believe his ears when he heard the news. The local high school needed a janitor and they actually had called him -- and asked to come in for an interview! So, naturally, it was time for a small celebration in the form of a good ol' Frappuccino.
"That'll be seven twenty!"
Terry thanked, smiled and took a sip. He knew this would change everything. He needed a change in his life and this was it. He'd start hitting the gym again, spend time with Timmy and Johnny and his wife, go fishing with friends, start bowling and...
"Die? He died?! From soy milk? I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry," said the Starbucks barrista and collapsed. "Oh God no. I mixed up the orders and did him a Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy milk... oh I'm so fucking sorry. Oh fuck me." |
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | I went to starbucks this morning. I was on my phone and not really paying attention to the ba*r*ista who was serving me. What I got was not what I ordered. I turned around and started complaining loudly. That's when I realised that I was being served by WWE wrestler Ba*t*ista. His face got screwed up. He grabbed me and lifted me over his head and threw me down on the table and then poured the wrong coffee down my throat. | "Mommy, why they are taking daddy away?"
Mary-Ann, holding back her tears and trying to act normal, took little Johnny in her arms. "Sweetheart, you are a bit young to understand this... but daddy is going to go for a little holiday."
"Is daddy going to Disneyland?"
The years he had spent working for the company had turned Terry into a bald and bitter fat old man. Even if he was just forty-three, he looked fifty. If someone told you he used to be a quarterback in high school, you'd call them a liar.
"Ma'am", said the officer. "I'm sorry."
Starbucks coming to the city had forced the local coffee shop to quit the business just weeks before, leaving Terry and his co-workers unemployed. His younger colleagues had had better luck finding job at the new place, but Terry hadn't been as lucky - until today.
"Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino. No fat milk."
Terry couldn't believe his ears when he heard the news. The local high school needed a janitor and they actually had called him -- and asked to come in for an interview! So, naturally, it was time for a small celebration in the form of a good ol' Frappuccino.
"That'll be seven twenty!"
Terry thanked, smiled and took a sip. He knew this would change everything. He needed a change in his life and this was it. He'd start hitting the gym again, spend time with Timmy and Johnny and his wife, go fishing with friends, start bowling and...
"Die? He died?! From soy milk? I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry," said the Starbucks barrista and collapsed. "Oh God no. I mixed up the orders and did him a Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy milk... oh I'm so fucking sorry. Oh fuck me." |
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | Lieutenant Batista getting fired from Miami-Metro, having to work at Starbucks hearing you bitch about your drink and then leaping over the counter and beating your ass sounds funny and tragic. | "Mommy, why they are taking daddy away?"
Mary-Ann, holding back her tears and trying to act normal, took little Johnny in her arms. "Sweetheart, you are a bit young to understand this... but daddy is going to go for a little holiday."
"Is daddy going to Disneyland?"
The years he had spent working for the company had turned Terry into a bald and bitter fat old man. Even if he was just forty-three, he looked fifty. If someone told you he used to be a quarterback in high school, you'd call them a liar.
"Ma'am", said the officer. "I'm sorry."
Starbucks coming to the city had forced the local coffee shop to quit the business just weeks before, leaving Terry and his co-workers unemployed. His younger colleagues had had better luck finding job at the new place, but Terry hadn't been as lucky - until today.
"Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino. No fat milk."
Terry couldn't believe his ears when he heard the news. The local high school needed a janitor and they actually had called him -- and asked to come in for an interview! So, naturally, it was time for a small celebration in the form of a good ol' Frappuccino.
"That'll be seven twenty!"
Terry thanked, smiled and took a sip. He knew this would change everything. He needed a change in his life and this was it. He'd start hitting the gym again, spend time with Timmy and Johnny and his wife, go fishing with friends, start bowling and...
"Die? He died?! From soy milk? I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry," said the Starbucks barrista and collapsed. "Oh God no. I mixed up the orders and did him a Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy milk... oh I'm so fucking sorry. Oh fuck me." |
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | Starbucks Batista
http://imgur.com/65k9noU
Starbucks Batista leaned over the counter and handed me my chocolaty beverage. He must have sensed my dissatisfaction because he looked at me with the most intense "fuck off or i will eat you" type of vibe...after a few seconds of uncomfortable staring he proclaimed "Basketballs....don't hold grudges" and that was that. | "Mommy, why they are taking daddy away?"
Mary-Ann, holding back her tears and trying to act normal, took little Johnny in her arms. "Sweetheart, you are a bit young to understand this... but daddy is going to go for a little holiday."
"Is daddy going to Disneyland?"
The years he had spent working for the company had turned Terry into a bald and bitter fat old man. Even if he was just forty-three, he looked fifty. If someone told you he used to be a quarterback in high school, you'd call them a liar.
"Ma'am", said the officer. "I'm sorry."
Starbucks coming to the city had forced the local coffee shop to quit the business just weeks before, leaving Terry and his co-workers unemployed. His younger colleagues had had better luck finding job at the new place, but Terry hadn't been as lucky - until today.
"Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino. No fat milk."
Terry couldn't believe his ears when he heard the news. The local high school needed a janitor and they actually had called him -- and asked to come in for an interview! So, naturally, it was time for a small celebration in the form of a good ol' Frappuccino.
"That'll be seven twenty!"
Terry thanked, smiled and took a sip. He knew this would change everything. He needed a change in his life and this was it. He'd start hitting the gym again, spend time with Timmy and Johnny and his wife, go fishing with friends, start bowling and...
"Die? He died?! From soy milk? I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry," said the Starbucks barrista and collapsed. "Oh God no. I mixed up the orders and did him a Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy milk... oh I'm so fucking sorry. Oh fuck me." |
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | I sat in my chair eying the drink I had not ordered, but I had to forgive the mistake as I choked back tears. In the soul crushing realization that "The Animal" Dave Batista was reduced to serving at Starbucks. It had not been so long ago that he was part of Evolution with Triple H and the Nature Boy Rick Flair. Now I look upon this once veritable mass of fury as he quietly slinks behind the counter to his dark fall from the public eye. A single tear drops from my cheek. | "Mommy, why they are taking daddy away?"
Mary-Ann, holding back her tears and trying to act normal, took little Johnny in her arms. "Sweetheart, you are a bit young to understand this... but daddy is going to go for a little holiday."
"Is daddy going to Disneyland?"
The years he had spent working for the company had turned Terry into a bald and bitter fat old man. Even if he was just forty-three, he looked fifty. If someone told you he used to be a quarterback in high school, you'd call them a liar.
"Ma'am", said the officer. "I'm sorry."
Starbucks coming to the city had forced the local coffee shop to quit the business just weeks before, leaving Terry and his co-workers unemployed. His younger colleagues had had better luck finding job at the new place, but Terry hadn't been as lucky - until today.
"Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino. No fat milk."
Terry couldn't believe his ears when he heard the news. The local high school needed a janitor and they actually had called him -- and asked to come in for an interview! So, naturally, it was time for a small celebration in the form of a good ol' Frappuccino.
"That'll be seven twenty!"
Terry thanked, smiled and took a sip. He knew this would change everything. He needed a change in his life and this was it. He'd start hitting the gym again, spend time with Timmy and Johnny and his wife, go fishing with friends, start bowling and...
"Die? He died?! From soy milk? I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry," said the Starbucks barrista and collapsed. "Oh God no. I mixed up the orders and did him a Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy milk... oh I'm so fucking sorry. Oh fuck me." |
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | After realizing you get the wrong sort of drink, you ask to the man in anger 'What the fuck is this?!" You look up at him, only to realize Batista is serving you. (Probably typo by op for Barista... Batista is a big buff character in wwe.) You start to feel your sweat come from your skin as you slowly walk back, shaking... He lifts you up from your collar, then rips his shirt off showing his big buff abs and defined muscles. You are turned on for a second, then realize the situation you are in. After throwing you on the ground he yells "DONT INSULT MY FUCKING DRINKS!" At this point you are frantically running to the door as bystanders watch in shock, he grabs your foot, drags you back, and punches you hard across... Left, right, left, right, until you roll away wher proceeds to smash your head repeatedly against a wall. Slowly, you lose all strength in your body, and everything starts to turn dark...
You wake up in Hospital with a few family members. This is where you take your last breath.
Edit 1: I'm not fixing the grammar. | Miami Metro homicide was a life he left behind. He didn't want to think about murder scenes or working with overly obsessed blood spatter analysts. He just wanted to make coffee.
Then it happened. A tan fit man I recognized from the many stories, came in with his sister the detective. He knew there was no way he was getting away from them. He had told me about them so many times. About how they ruined his life. I normally wasn't the kind of guy anyone could confide in, but the many times visits had bred familiarity between us. I placed my order, the usual, a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk.
But his distraction, his emotions, obviously got the better of him, because what I received was a Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy. He was still talking with his old friends, the Morgans, and I could tell they were going to ruin his idyllic life of coffee making, one way or the other.
Soon enough he takes of his apron and follows them out the door. There he goes, my own Angel. Angel Batista, the best barista in Miami, pulled back into the stuff of nightmares. |
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | **MAN:** Excuse me, I think there's been a mistake. I ordered the double choc--
**BARISTA:** Sorry, that's for the man behind you. He has the same name as you. Here's your soy bullshit, Jebediah! And here you go with some non fat milk contraption other Jebediah.
**MAN:** Thanks. (turns) (walks towards door) (slips on puddle of spilt half and half) ARRRRRGH! MY LEG!
**BARISTA:** Whoa! You can see bone sticking out!
**MAN:** I'm hurt!
**BARISTA:** Does anyone here know CPR?
**MAN:** CPR? CALL A FREAKIN' AMBULANCE!
**BARISTA:** Hey! Anyone got a phone?
**MAN:** MINE'S ON THE FLOOR RIGHT THERE COVERED IN BLOOD DEAR GOD CALL FOR HELP!!!
**BARISTA:** So sticky! OK, just gotta swipe it open and... uh-oh.
**MAN:** HURRY UP!
**BARISTA:** There's a text here from your wife. She says she's leaving you.
**MAN:** DON'T CARE! CALL THE GODDAMN AMBULANCE!
**BARISTA:** Yes, we need an ambulance for Jedediah. No, the other one. The non fat guy, not Jebby Soy. (laughs) Yeah, uh-huh. Hey, they say they're already at your house.
**MAN:** WHAT?
**BARISTA:** The twins are dead. They were playing on the roof and snapped their neck when they fell off.
**MAN:** OH MY GOD!
**BARISTA:** But they're sending another ambulance for you, right after the clean off the front of the one that ran over your dog.
**MAN** Duke is dead, too?
**BARISTA:** Yes, but he was already dead when the ambulance ran him over. He got shot by your neighbor.
**MAN:** WHAT????
**BARISTA:** I can hear the siren now. It should be here in a-- oh, Jebby Soy. What's that? Oh, right! I get those mixed up all the time. I made two soy drinks and no non fat one.
**MAN:** I DIDN'T EVEN GET THE RIGHT COFFEE?
**BARISTA:** Whoops!
*END SCENE* | Miami Metro homicide was a life he left behind. He didn't want to think about murder scenes or working with overly obsessed blood spatter analysts. He just wanted to make coffee.
Then it happened. A tan fit man I recognized from the many stories, came in with his sister the detective. He knew there was no way he was getting away from them. He had told me about them so many times. About how they ruined his life. I normally wasn't the kind of guy anyone could confide in, but the many times visits had bred familiarity between us. I placed my order, the usual, a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk.
But his distraction, his emotions, obviously got the better of him, because what I received was a Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy. He was still talking with his old friends, the Morgans, and I could tell they were going to ruin his idyllic life of coffee making, one way or the other.
Soon enough he takes of his apron and follows them out the door. There he goes, my own Angel. Angel Batista, the best barista in Miami, pulled back into the stuff of nightmares. |
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | I went to starbucks this morning. I was on my phone and not really paying attention to the ba*r*ista who was serving me. What I got was not what I ordered. I turned around and started complaining loudly. That's when I realised that I was being served by WWE wrestler Ba*t*ista. His face got screwed up. He grabbed me and lifted me over his head and threw me down on the table and then poured the wrong coffee down my throat. | Miami Metro homicide was a life he left behind. He didn't want to think about murder scenes or working with overly obsessed blood spatter analysts. He just wanted to make coffee.
Then it happened. A tan fit man I recognized from the many stories, came in with his sister the detective. He knew there was no way he was getting away from them. He had told me about them so many times. About how they ruined his life. I normally wasn't the kind of guy anyone could confide in, but the many times visits had bred familiarity between us. I placed my order, the usual, a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk.
But his distraction, his emotions, obviously got the better of him, because what I received was a Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy. He was still talking with his old friends, the Morgans, and I could tell they were going to ruin his idyllic life of coffee making, one way or the other.
Soon enough he takes of his apron and follows them out the door. There he goes, my own Angel. Angel Batista, the best barista in Miami, pulled back into the stuff of nightmares. |
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | Lieutenant Batista getting fired from Miami-Metro, having to work at Starbucks hearing you bitch about your drink and then leaping over the counter and beating your ass sounds funny and tragic. | Miami Metro homicide was a life he left behind. He didn't want to think about murder scenes or working with overly obsessed blood spatter analysts. He just wanted to make coffee.
Then it happened. A tan fit man I recognized from the many stories, came in with his sister the detective. He knew there was no way he was getting away from them. He had told me about them so many times. About how they ruined his life. I normally wasn't the kind of guy anyone could confide in, but the many times visits had bred familiarity between us. I placed my order, the usual, a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk.
But his distraction, his emotions, obviously got the better of him, because what I received was a Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy. He was still talking with his old friends, the Morgans, and I could tell they were going to ruin his idyllic life of coffee making, one way or the other.
Soon enough he takes of his apron and follows them out the door. There he goes, my own Angel. Angel Batista, the best barista in Miami, pulled back into the stuff of nightmares. |
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | Starbucks Batista
http://imgur.com/65k9noU
Starbucks Batista leaned over the counter and handed me my chocolaty beverage. He must have sensed my dissatisfaction because he looked at me with the most intense "fuck off or i will eat you" type of vibe...after a few seconds of uncomfortable staring he proclaimed "Basketballs....don't hold grudges" and that was that. | Miami Metro homicide was a life he left behind. He didn't want to think about murder scenes or working with overly obsessed blood spatter analysts. He just wanted to make coffee.
Then it happened. A tan fit man I recognized from the many stories, came in with his sister the detective. He knew there was no way he was getting away from them. He had told me about them so many times. About how they ruined his life. I normally wasn't the kind of guy anyone could confide in, but the many times visits had bred familiarity between us. I placed my order, the usual, a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk.
But his distraction, his emotions, obviously got the better of him, because what I received was a Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy. He was still talking with his old friends, the Morgans, and I could tell they were going to ruin his idyllic life of coffee making, one way or the other.
Soon enough he takes of his apron and follows them out the door. There he goes, my own Angel. Angel Batista, the best barista in Miami, pulled back into the stuff of nightmares. |
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | I sat in my chair eying the drink I had not ordered, but I had to forgive the mistake as I choked back tears. In the soul crushing realization that "The Animal" Dave Batista was reduced to serving at Starbucks. It had not been so long ago that he was part of Evolution with Triple H and the Nature Boy Rick Flair. Now I look upon this once veritable mass of fury as he quietly slinks behind the counter to his dark fall from the public eye. A single tear drops from my cheek. | Miami Metro homicide was a life he left behind. He didn't want to think about murder scenes or working with overly obsessed blood spatter analysts. He just wanted to make coffee.
Then it happened. A tan fit man I recognized from the many stories, came in with his sister the detective. He knew there was no way he was getting away from them. He had told me about them so many times. About how they ruined his life. I normally wasn't the kind of guy anyone could confide in, but the many times visits had bred familiarity between us. I placed my order, the usual, a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk.
But his distraction, his emotions, obviously got the better of him, because what I received was a Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy. He was still talking with his old friends, the Morgans, and I could tell they were going to ruin his idyllic life of coffee making, one way or the other.
Soon enough he takes of his apron and follows them out the door. There he goes, my own Angel. Angel Batista, the best barista in Miami, pulled back into the stuff of nightmares. |
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | **MAN:** Excuse me, I think there's been a mistake. I ordered the double choc--
**BARISTA:** Sorry, that's for the man behind you. He has the same name as you. Here's your soy bullshit, Jebediah! And here you go with some non fat milk contraption other Jebediah.
**MAN:** Thanks. (turns) (walks towards door) (slips on puddle of spilt half and half) ARRRRRGH! MY LEG!
**BARISTA:** Whoa! You can see bone sticking out!
**MAN:** I'm hurt!
**BARISTA:** Does anyone here know CPR?
**MAN:** CPR? CALL A FREAKIN' AMBULANCE!
**BARISTA:** Hey! Anyone got a phone?
**MAN:** MINE'S ON THE FLOOR RIGHT THERE COVERED IN BLOOD DEAR GOD CALL FOR HELP!!!
**BARISTA:** So sticky! OK, just gotta swipe it open and... uh-oh.
**MAN:** HURRY UP!
**BARISTA:** There's a text here from your wife. She says she's leaving you.
**MAN:** DON'T CARE! CALL THE GODDAMN AMBULANCE!
**BARISTA:** Yes, we need an ambulance for Jedediah. No, the other one. The non fat guy, not Jebby Soy. (laughs) Yeah, uh-huh. Hey, they say they're already at your house.
**MAN:** WHAT?
**BARISTA:** The twins are dead. They were playing on the roof and snapped their neck when they fell off.
**MAN:** OH MY GOD!
**BARISTA:** But they're sending another ambulance for you, right after the clean off the front of the one that ran over your dog.
**MAN** Duke is dead, too?
**BARISTA:** Yes, but he was already dead when the ambulance ran him over. He got shot by your neighbor.
**MAN:** WHAT????
**BARISTA:** I can hear the siren now. It should be here in a-- oh, Jebby Soy. What's that? Oh, right! I get those mixed up all the time. I made two soy drinks and no non fat one.
**MAN:** I DIDN'T EVEN GET THE RIGHT COFFEE?
**BARISTA:** Whoops!
*END SCENE* | I entered the Starbucks with an intention of purchasing my daily caffe vanilla light frappuccino with no fat milk. It has been this way for years but today I've been forced to visit the Starbucks two blocks away since my regular Starbucks is being remodeled. I walked up to the counter and asked the rather large barister for my regular. He told me I'm a cunt and asked if I knew who he was. I said no and he yelled "I am Batista!" and loaded a still steaming double chocolaty chip creme frappuccino with soy into the ballista behind the counter. The chocolate and soy was launched into my face, leaving it the disfigured monstrosity you see today.
Thank you for listening to my tale, In the hopes that this will never happen again please sign my petition to get all ballistas and Batista's removed from coffee shops. |
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | I went to starbucks this morning. I was on my phone and not really paying attention to the ba*r*ista who was serving me. What I got was not what I ordered. I turned around and started complaining loudly. That's when I realised that I was being served by WWE wrestler Ba*t*ista. His face got screwed up. He grabbed me and lifted me over his head and threw me down on the table and then poured the wrong coffee down my throat. | I entered the Starbucks with an intention of purchasing my daily caffe vanilla light frappuccino with no fat milk. It has been this way for years but today I've been forced to visit the Starbucks two blocks away since my regular Starbucks is being remodeled. I walked up to the counter and asked the rather large barister for my regular. He told me I'm a cunt and asked if I knew who he was. I said no and he yelled "I am Batista!" and loaded a still steaming double chocolaty chip creme frappuccino with soy into the ballista behind the counter. The chocolate and soy was launched into my face, leaving it the disfigured monstrosity you see today.
Thank you for listening to my tale, In the hopes that this will never happen again please sign my petition to get all ballistas and Batista's removed from coffee shops. |
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | Lieutenant Batista getting fired from Miami-Metro, having to work at Starbucks hearing you bitch about your drink and then leaping over the counter and beating your ass sounds funny and tragic. | I entered the Starbucks with an intention of purchasing my daily caffe vanilla light frappuccino with no fat milk. It has been this way for years but today I've been forced to visit the Starbucks two blocks away since my regular Starbucks is being remodeled. I walked up to the counter and asked the rather large barister for my regular. He told me I'm a cunt and asked if I knew who he was. I said no and he yelled "I am Batista!" and loaded a still steaming double chocolaty chip creme frappuccino with soy into the ballista behind the counter. The chocolate and soy was launched into my face, leaving it the disfigured monstrosity you see today.
Thank you for listening to my tale, In the hopes that this will never happen again please sign my petition to get all ballistas and Batista's removed from coffee shops. |
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | Starbucks Batista
http://imgur.com/65k9noU
Starbucks Batista leaned over the counter and handed me my chocolaty beverage. He must have sensed my dissatisfaction because he looked at me with the most intense "fuck off or i will eat you" type of vibe...after a few seconds of uncomfortable staring he proclaimed "Basketballs....don't hold grudges" and that was that. | I entered the Starbucks with an intention of purchasing my daily caffe vanilla light frappuccino with no fat milk. It has been this way for years but today I've been forced to visit the Starbucks two blocks away since my regular Starbucks is being remodeled. I walked up to the counter and asked the rather large barister for my regular. He told me I'm a cunt and asked if I knew who he was. I said no and he yelled "I am Batista!" and loaded a still steaming double chocolaty chip creme frappuccino with soy into the ballista behind the counter. The chocolate and soy was launched into my face, leaving it the disfigured monstrosity you see today.
Thank you for listening to my tale, In the hopes that this will never happen again please sign my petition to get all ballistas and Batista's removed from coffee shops. |
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | I sat in my chair eying the drink I had not ordered, but I had to forgive the mistake as I choked back tears. In the soul crushing realization that "The Animal" Dave Batista was reduced to serving at Starbucks. It had not been so long ago that he was part of Evolution with Triple H and the Nature Boy Rick Flair. Now I look upon this once veritable mass of fury as he quietly slinks behind the counter to his dark fall from the public eye. A single tear drops from my cheek. | I entered the Starbucks with an intention of purchasing my daily caffe vanilla light frappuccino with no fat milk. It has been this way for years but today I've been forced to visit the Starbucks two blocks away since my regular Starbucks is being remodeled. I walked up to the counter and asked the rather large barister for my regular. He told me I'm a cunt and asked if I knew who he was. I said no and he yelled "I am Batista!" and loaded a still steaming double chocolaty chip creme frappuccino with soy into the ballista behind the counter. The chocolate and soy was launched into my face, leaving it the disfigured monstrosity you see today.
Thank you for listening to my tale, In the hopes that this will never happen again please sign my petition to get all ballistas and Batista's removed from coffee shops. |
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | **MAN:** Excuse me, I think there's been a mistake. I ordered the double choc--
**BARISTA:** Sorry, that's for the man behind you. He has the same name as you. Here's your soy bullshit, Jebediah! And here you go with some non fat milk contraption other Jebediah.
**MAN:** Thanks. (turns) (walks towards door) (slips on puddle of spilt half and half) ARRRRRGH! MY LEG!
**BARISTA:** Whoa! You can see bone sticking out!
**MAN:** I'm hurt!
**BARISTA:** Does anyone here know CPR?
**MAN:** CPR? CALL A FREAKIN' AMBULANCE!
**BARISTA:** Hey! Anyone got a phone?
**MAN:** MINE'S ON THE FLOOR RIGHT THERE COVERED IN BLOOD DEAR GOD CALL FOR HELP!!!
**BARISTA:** So sticky! OK, just gotta swipe it open and... uh-oh.
**MAN:** HURRY UP!
**BARISTA:** There's a text here from your wife. She says she's leaving you.
**MAN:** DON'T CARE! CALL THE GODDAMN AMBULANCE!
**BARISTA:** Yes, we need an ambulance for Jedediah. No, the other one. The non fat guy, not Jebby Soy. (laughs) Yeah, uh-huh. Hey, they say they're already at your house.
**MAN:** WHAT?
**BARISTA:** The twins are dead. They were playing on the roof and snapped their neck when they fell off.
**MAN:** OH MY GOD!
**BARISTA:** But they're sending another ambulance for you, right after the clean off the front of the one that ran over your dog.
**MAN** Duke is dead, too?
**BARISTA:** Yes, but he was already dead when the ambulance ran him over. He got shot by your neighbor.
**MAN:** WHAT????
**BARISTA:** I can hear the siren now. It should be here in a-- oh, Jebby Soy. What's that? Oh, right! I get those mixed up all the time. I made two soy drinks and no non fat one.
**MAN:** I DIDN'T EVEN GET THE RIGHT COFFEE?
**BARISTA:** Whoops!
*END SCENE* | I have owned a top of the line coffee shop for 25 years; serving nothing but the highest quality coffee with gourmet chocolate. Our customer base was large, as we had a friendly environment that welcomed whoever decided to stop in.
And yet in a blink of an eye it was shut down.
Every morning, I would wake up, drive over to the shop, make myself a Mocha Frappuccino with soy. It was a reward to myself for coming this far.
And yet in a blink of an eye it was shut down.
So now I walk down the street from where I used to tend to every man woman and child who was lucky enough to experience my shop. It is 8:30 in the morning. I see a Starbucks out of the corner of my eye, and realize that they are the reason that I am walking down this sad street, alone. It has already been decided that I am to walk into this hell of a shop and order one last Mocha Frappuccino with soy...
Wait, what?
Mocha frapp... Mocha frapp... Mocha frapp...
Theres no such thing?
I walk up to the young Barista and ask him if they have Mocha Frappuccinos with soy instead of milk.
"Do you mean our Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuccino with soy, Sir?"
I involuntarily laughed and asked him if that was really a thing.
He said yes and asked if that was what I would like.
I gave the man a ridiculous amount of money for a "tall" or whatever and waited at the counter for my last Mocha Frappuccino from the joke of a company that put me out of business. |
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | I went to starbucks this morning. I was on my phone and not really paying attention to the ba*r*ista who was serving me. What I got was not what I ordered. I turned around and started complaining loudly. That's when I realised that I was being served by WWE wrestler Ba*t*ista. His face got screwed up. He grabbed me and lifted me over his head and threw me down on the table and then poured the wrong coffee down my throat. | I have owned a top of the line coffee shop for 25 years; serving nothing but the highest quality coffee with gourmet chocolate. Our customer base was large, as we had a friendly environment that welcomed whoever decided to stop in.
And yet in a blink of an eye it was shut down.
Every morning, I would wake up, drive over to the shop, make myself a Mocha Frappuccino with soy. It was a reward to myself for coming this far.
And yet in a blink of an eye it was shut down.
So now I walk down the street from where I used to tend to every man woman and child who was lucky enough to experience my shop. It is 8:30 in the morning. I see a Starbucks out of the corner of my eye, and realize that they are the reason that I am walking down this sad street, alone. It has already been decided that I am to walk into this hell of a shop and order one last Mocha Frappuccino with soy...
Wait, what?
Mocha frapp... Mocha frapp... Mocha frapp...
Theres no such thing?
I walk up to the young Barista and ask him if they have Mocha Frappuccinos with soy instead of milk.
"Do you mean our Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuccino with soy, Sir?"
I involuntarily laughed and asked him if that was really a thing.
He said yes and asked if that was what I would like.
I gave the man a ridiculous amount of money for a "tall" or whatever and waited at the counter for my last Mocha Frappuccino from the joke of a company that put me out of business. |
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | Lieutenant Batista getting fired from Miami-Metro, having to work at Starbucks hearing you bitch about your drink and then leaping over the counter and beating your ass sounds funny and tragic. | I have owned a top of the line coffee shop for 25 years; serving nothing but the highest quality coffee with gourmet chocolate. Our customer base was large, as we had a friendly environment that welcomed whoever decided to stop in.
And yet in a blink of an eye it was shut down.
Every morning, I would wake up, drive over to the shop, make myself a Mocha Frappuccino with soy. It was a reward to myself for coming this far.
And yet in a blink of an eye it was shut down.
So now I walk down the street from where I used to tend to every man woman and child who was lucky enough to experience my shop. It is 8:30 in the morning. I see a Starbucks out of the corner of my eye, and realize that they are the reason that I am walking down this sad street, alone. It has already been decided that I am to walk into this hell of a shop and order one last Mocha Frappuccino with soy...
Wait, what?
Mocha frapp... Mocha frapp... Mocha frapp...
Theres no such thing?
I walk up to the young Barista and ask him if they have Mocha Frappuccinos with soy instead of milk.
"Do you mean our Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuccino with soy, Sir?"
I involuntarily laughed and asked him if that was really a thing.
He said yes and asked if that was what I would like.
I gave the man a ridiculous amount of money for a "tall" or whatever and waited at the counter for my last Mocha Frappuccino from the joke of a company that put me out of business. |
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | Starbucks Batista
http://imgur.com/65k9noU
Starbucks Batista leaned over the counter and handed me my chocolaty beverage. He must have sensed my dissatisfaction because he looked at me with the most intense "fuck off or i will eat you" type of vibe...after a few seconds of uncomfortable staring he proclaimed "Basketballs....don't hold grudges" and that was that. | I have owned a top of the line coffee shop for 25 years; serving nothing but the highest quality coffee with gourmet chocolate. Our customer base was large, as we had a friendly environment that welcomed whoever decided to stop in.
And yet in a blink of an eye it was shut down.
Every morning, I would wake up, drive over to the shop, make myself a Mocha Frappuccino with soy. It was a reward to myself for coming this far.
And yet in a blink of an eye it was shut down.
So now I walk down the street from where I used to tend to every man woman and child who was lucky enough to experience my shop. It is 8:30 in the morning. I see a Starbucks out of the corner of my eye, and realize that they are the reason that I am walking down this sad street, alone. It has already been decided that I am to walk into this hell of a shop and order one last Mocha Frappuccino with soy...
Wait, what?
Mocha frapp... Mocha frapp... Mocha frapp...
Theres no such thing?
I walk up to the young Barista and ask him if they have Mocha Frappuccinos with soy instead of milk.
"Do you mean our Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuccino with soy, Sir?"
I involuntarily laughed and asked him if that was really a thing.
He said yes and asked if that was what I would like.
I gave the man a ridiculous amount of money for a "tall" or whatever and waited at the counter for my last Mocha Frappuccino from the joke of a company that put me out of business. |
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | I sat in my chair eying the drink I had not ordered, but I had to forgive the mistake as I choked back tears. In the soul crushing realization that "The Animal" Dave Batista was reduced to serving at Starbucks. It had not been so long ago that he was part of Evolution with Triple H and the Nature Boy Rick Flair. Now I look upon this once veritable mass of fury as he quietly slinks behind the counter to his dark fall from the public eye. A single tear drops from my cheek. | I have owned a top of the line coffee shop for 25 years; serving nothing but the highest quality coffee with gourmet chocolate. Our customer base was large, as we had a friendly environment that welcomed whoever decided to stop in.
And yet in a blink of an eye it was shut down.
Every morning, I would wake up, drive over to the shop, make myself a Mocha Frappuccino with soy. It was a reward to myself for coming this far.
And yet in a blink of an eye it was shut down.
So now I walk down the street from where I used to tend to every man woman and child who was lucky enough to experience my shop. It is 8:30 in the morning. I see a Starbucks out of the corner of my eye, and realize that they are the reason that I am walking down this sad street, alone. It has already been decided that I am to walk into this hell of a shop and order one last Mocha Frappuccino with soy...
Wait, what?
Mocha frapp... Mocha frapp... Mocha frapp...
Theres no such thing?
I walk up to the young Barista and ask him if they have Mocha Frappuccinos with soy instead of milk.
"Do you mean our Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuccino with soy, Sir?"
I involuntarily laughed and asked him if that was really a thing.
He said yes and asked if that was what I would like.
I gave the man a ridiculous amount of money for a "tall" or whatever and waited at the counter for my last Mocha Frappuccino from the joke of a company that put me out of business. |
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | **MAN:** Excuse me, I think there's been a mistake. I ordered the double choc--
**BARISTA:** Sorry, that's for the man behind you. He has the same name as you. Here's your soy bullshit, Jebediah! And here you go with some non fat milk contraption other Jebediah.
**MAN:** Thanks. (turns) (walks towards door) (slips on puddle of spilt half and half) ARRRRRGH! MY LEG!
**BARISTA:** Whoa! You can see bone sticking out!
**MAN:** I'm hurt!
**BARISTA:** Does anyone here know CPR?
**MAN:** CPR? CALL A FREAKIN' AMBULANCE!
**BARISTA:** Hey! Anyone got a phone?
**MAN:** MINE'S ON THE FLOOR RIGHT THERE COVERED IN BLOOD DEAR GOD CALL FOR HELP!!!
**BARISTA:** So sticky! OK, just gotta swipe it open and... uh-oh.
**MAN:** HURRY UP!
**BARISTA:** There's a text here from your wife. She says she's leaving you.
**MAN:** DON'T CARE! CALL THE GODDAMN AMBULANCE!
**BARISTA:** Yes, we need an ambulance for Jedediah. No, the other one. The non fat guy, not Jebby Soy. (laughs) Yeah, uh-huh. Hey, they say they're already at your house.
**MAN:** WHAT?
**BARISTA:** The twins are dead. They were playing on the roof and snapped their neck when they fell off.
**MAN:** OH MY GOD!
**BARISTA:** But they're sending another ambulance for you, right after the clean off the front of the one that ran over your dog.
**MAN** Duke is dead, too?
**BARISTA:** Yes, but he was already dead when the ambulance ran him over. He got shot by your neighbor.
**MAN:** WHAT????
**BARISTA:** I can hear the siren now. It should be here in a-- oh, Jebby Soy. What's that? Oh, right! I get those mixed up all the time. I made two soy drinks and no non fat one.
**MAN:** I DIDN'T EVEN GET THE RIGHT COFFEE?
**BARISTA:** Whoops!
*END SCENE* | I met her in a sea of trees, we shook limbs and our palmistry aligned. Lightning struck when her golden eyes glanced my way. She danced like one of those used car lot tube dancers, but with a sway in her hips and perfect rhythm.
We went out a month later for the first time. I was nervous and the quad espresso I ordered made me all the more jittery. She didn't drink caffeine and got a soy double chocolate chip frappucino. No whip. We sucked down our respective beverages and talked about the meanings of our lives.
She grew up wealthy but was jaded by extravagance. Instead, she lived the life of a working poor. In her words, she needed to feel like she was making her own way, becoming someone herself instead of turning to the easy comforts of wealth and memory foam. As such, she lived in a shitty neighborhood and rode her bike into the city every day.
I pulled up to her apartment after our coffee date. We sat in the car for a few minutes, afraid to be the first to suggest our separation. Finally I said adieu and gave her a gentle, firm hug that warmed me from the toes up. One last look into those golden brown eyes and I was on my way.
A few weeks later I heard the news. We'd been talking about dinner in the next couple days. Apparently the driver, strung out on heroin, didn't even see her on her bike in the oncoming traffic lane. The driver either didn't notice that he'd hit her, or was too stoned to care. Either way he left her there in a tangled mess of spokes and bones.
We sometimes forget that even the most beautiful and flawless among us bleed like all the rest. I've tried to forget that fact every day since I heard.
I've stopped ordering quad espressos. They remind me too much of her golden-eyes glances. Since then, I've switched to a skinny vanilla latte. It's warm out today, though. Maybe I'll go for a caffe vanilla frappucino light. No whip. |
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | I went to starbucks this morning. I was on my phone and not really paying attention to the ba*r*ista who was serving me. What I got was not what I ordered. I turned around and started complaining loudly. That's when I realised that I was being served by WWE wrestler Ba*t*ista. His face got screwed up. He grabbed me and lifted me over his head and threw me down on the table and then poured the wrong coffee down my throat. | I met her in a sea of trees, we shook limbs and our palmistry aligned. Lightning struck when her golden eyes glanced my way. She danced like one of those used car lot tube dancers, but with a sway in her hips and perfect rhythm.
We went out a month later for the first time. I was nervous and the quad espresso I ordered made me all the more jittery. She didn't drink caffeine and got a soy double chocolate chip frappucino. No whip. We sucked down our respective beverages and talked about the meanings of our lives.
She grew up wealthy but was jaded by extravagance. Instead, she lived the life of a working poor. In her words, she needed to feel like she was making her own way, becoming someone herself instead of turning to the easy comforts of wealth and memory foam. As such, she lived in a shitty neighborhood and rode her bike into the city every day.
I pulled up to her apartment after our coffee date. We sat in the car for a few minutes, afraid to be the first to suggest our separation. Finally I said adieu and gave her a gentle, firm hug that warmed me from the toes up. One last look into those golden brown eyes and I was on my way.
A few weeks later I heard the news. We'd been talking about dinner in the next couple days. Apparently the driver, strung out on heroin, didn't even see her on her bike in the oncoming traffic lane. The driver either didn't notice that he'd hit her, or was too stoned to care. Either way he left her there in a tangled mess of spokes and bones.
We sometimes forget that even the most beautiful and flawless among us bleed like all the rest. I've tried to forget that fact every day since I heard.
I've stopped ordering quad espressos. They remind me too much of her golden-eyes glances. Since then, I've switched to a skinny vanilla latte. It's warm out today, though. Maybe I'll go for a caffe vanilla frappucino light. No whip. |
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | Lieutenant Batista getting fired from Miami-Metro, having to work at Starbucks hearing you bitch about your drink and then leaping over the counter and beating your ass sounds funny and tragic. | I met her in a sea of trees, we shook limbs and our palmistry aligned. Lightning struck when her golden eyes glanced my way. She danced like one of those used car lot tube dancers, but with a sway in her hips and perfect rhythm.
We went out a month later for the first time. I was nervous and the quad espresso I ordered made me all the more jittery. She didn't drink caffeine and got a soy double chocolate chip frappucino. No whip. We sucked down our respective beverages and talked about the meanings of our lives.
She grew up wealthy but was jaded by extravagance. Instead, she lived the life of a working poor. In her words, she needed to feel like she was making her own way, becoming someone herself instead of turning to the easy comforts of wealth and memory foam. As such, she lived in a shitty neighborhood and rode her bike into the city every day.
I pulled up to her apartment after our coffee date. We sat in the car for a few minutes, afraid to be the first to suggest our separation. Finally I said adieu and gave her a gentle, firm hug that warmed me from the toes up. One last look into those golden brown eyes and I was on my way.
A few weeks later I heard the news. We'd been talking about dinner in the next couple days. Apparently the driver, strung out on heroin, didn't even see her on her bike in the oncoming traffic lane. The driver either didn't notice that he'd hit her, or was too stoned to care. Either way he left her there in a tangled mess of spokes and bones.
We sometimes forget that even the most beautiful and flawless among us bleed like all the rest. I've tried to forget that fact every day since I heard.
I've stopped ordering quad espressos. They remind me too much of her golden-eyes glances. Since then, I've switched to a skinny vanilla latte. It's warm out today, though. Maybe I'll go for a caffe vanilla frappucino light. No whip. |
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | Starbucks Batista
http://imgur.com/65k9noU
Starbucks Batista leaned over the counter and handed me my chocolaty beverage. He must have sensed my dissatisfaction because he looked at me with the most intense "fuck off or i will eat you" type of vibe...after a few seconds of uncomfortable staring he proclaimed "Basketballs....don't hold grudges" and that was that. | I met her in a sea of trees, we shook limbs and our palmistry aligned. Lightning struck when her golden eyes glanced my way. She danced like one of those used car lot tube dancers, but with a sway in her hips and perfect rhythm.
We went out a month later for the first time. I was nervous and the quad espresso I ordered made me all the more jittery. She didn't drink caffeine and got a soy double chocolate chip frappucino. No whip. We sucked down our respective beverages and talked about the meanings of our lives.
She grew up wealthy but was jaded by extravagance. Instead, she lived the life of a working poor. In her words, she needed to feel like she was making her own way, becoming someone herself instead of turning to the easy comforts of wealth and memory foam. As such, she lived in a shitty neighborhood and rode her bike into the city every day.
I pulled up to her apartment after our coffee date. We sat in the car for a few minutes, afraid to be the first to suggest our separation. Finally I said adieu and gave her a gentle, firm hug that warmed me from the toes up. One last look into those golden brown eyes and I was on my way.
A few weeks later I heard the news. We'd been talking about dinner in the next couple days. Apparently the driver, strung out on heroin, didn't even see her on her bike in the oncoming traffic lane. The driver either didn't notice that he'd hit her, or was too stoned to care. Either way he left her there in a tangled mess of spokes and bones.
We sometimes forget that even the most beautiful and flawless among us bleed like all the rest. I've tried to forget that fact every day since I heard.
I've stopped ordering quad espressos. They remind me too much of her golden-eyes glances. Since then, I've switched to a skinny vanilla latte. It's warm out today, though. Maybe I'll go for a caffe vanilla frappucino light. No whip. |
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | I sat in my chair eying the drink I had not ordered, but I had to forgive the mistake as I choked back tears. In the soul crushing realization that "The Animal" Dave Batista was reduced to serving at Starbucks. It had not been so long ago that he was part of Evolution with Triple H and the Nature Boy Rick Flair. Now I look upon this once veritable mass of fury as he quietly slinks behind the counter to his dark fall from the public eye. A single tear drops from my cheek. | I met her in a sea of trees, we shook limbs and our palmistry aligned. Lightning struck when her golden eyes glanced my way. She danced like one of those used car lot tube dancers, but with a sway in her hips and perfect rhythm.
We went out a month later for the first time. I was nervous and the quad espresso I ordered made me all the more jittery. She didn't drink caffeine and got a soy double chocolate chip frappucino. No whip. We sucked down our respective beverages and talked about the meanings of our lives.
She grew up wealthy but was jaded by extravagance. Instead, she lived the life of a working poor. In her words, she needed to feel like she was making her own way, becoming someone herself instead of turning to the easy comforts of wealth and memory foam. As such, she lived in a shitty neighborhood and rode her bike into the city every day.
I pulled up to her apartment after our coffee date. We sat in the car for a few minutes, afraid to be the first to suggest our separation. Finally I said adieu and gave her a gentle, firm hug that warmed me from the toes up. One last look into those golden brown eyes and I was on my way.
A few weeks later I heard the news. We'd been talking about dinner in the next couple days. Apparently the driver, strung out on heroin, didn't even see her on her bike in the oncoming traffic lane. The driver either didn't notice that he'd hit her, or was too stoned to care. Either way he left her there in a tangled mess of spokes and bones.
We sometimes forget that even the most beautiful and flawless among us bleed like all the rest. I've tried to forget that fact every day since I heard.
I've stopped ordering quad espressos. They remind me too much of her golden-eyes glances. Since then, I've switched to a skinny vanilla latte. It's warm out today, though. Maybe I'll go for a caffe vanilla frappucino light. No whip. |
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | **MAN:** Excuse me, I think there's been a mistake. I ordered the double choc--
**BARISTA:** Sorry, that's for the man behind you. He has the same name as you. Here's your soy bullshit, Jebediah! And here you go with some non fat milk contraption other Jebediah.
**MAN:** Thanks. (turns) (walks towards door) (slips on puddle of spilt half and half) ARRRRRGH! MY LEG!
**BARISTA:** Whoa! You can see bone sticking out!
**MAN:** I'm hurt!
**BARISTA:** Does anyone here know CPR?
**MAN:** CPR? CALL A FREAKIN' AMBULANCE!
**BARISTA:** Hey! Anyone got a phone?
**MAN:** MINE'S ON THE FLOOR RIGHT THERE COVERED IN BLOOD DEAR GOD CALL FOR HELP!!!
**BARISTA:** So sticky! OK, just gotta swipe it open and... uh-oh.
**MAN:** HURRY UP!
**BARISTA:** There's a text here from your wife. She says she's leaving you.
**MAN:** DON'T CARE! CALL THE GODDAMN AMBULANCE!
**BARISTA:** Yes, we need an ambulance for Jedediah. No, the other one. The non fat guy, not Jebby Soy. (laughs) Yeah, uh-huh. Hey, they say they're already at your house.
**MAN:** WHAT?
**BARISTA:** The twins are dead. They were playing on the roof and snapped their neck when they fell off.
**MAN:** OH MY GOD!
**BARISTA:** But they're sending another ambulance for you, right after the clean off the front of the one that ran over your dog.
**MAN** Duke is dead, too?
**BARISTA:** Yes, but he was already dead when the ambulance ran him over. He got shot by your neighbor.
**MAN:** WHAT????
**BARISTA:** I can hear the siren now. It should be here in a-- oh, Jebby Soy. What's that? Oh, right! I get those mixed up all the time. I made two soy drinks and no non fat one.
**MAN:** I DIDN'T EVEN GET THE RIGHT COFFEE?
**BARISTA:** Whoops!
*END SCENE* | I entered into the little cafe on the corner. It was a quiet day in may, the year 2031. My eyes scanned over the coffee shop coming to rest upon the large man behind the counter. Tattoos coated what parts of his arm unhidden by his black and green polo top. A thick beard coated his chin black locks upon his head.
Oh how he had fallen from grace from fame and fortune. A former world champion, A Former Movie Star. I stood in front of the counter scanning the drink placed into my hand. His eyes would scan me I could feel the nervousness from the male hoping he wouldn't be noticed. My mouth dry I slowy opened it letting out a short sentence.
"This isn't what I ordered, Drax." |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | I went to starbucks this morning. I was on my phone and not really paying attention to the ba*r*ista who was serving me. What I got was not what I ordered. I turned around and started complaining loudly. That's when I realised that I was being served by WWE wrestler Ba*t*ista. His face got screwed up. He grabbed me and lifted me over his head and threw me down on the table and then poured the wrong coffee down my throat. | I entered into the little cafe on the corner. It was a quiet day in may, the year 2031. My eyes scanned over the coffee shop coming to rest upon the large man behind the counter. Tattoos coated what parts of his arm unhidden by his black and green polo top. A thick beard coated his chin black locks upon his head.
Oh how he had fallen from grace from fame and fortune. A former world champion, A Former Movie Star. I stood in front of the counter scanning the drink placed into my hand. His eyes would scan me I could feel the nervousness from the male hoping he wouldn't be noticed. My mouth dry I slowy opened it letting out a short sentence.
"This isn't what I ordered, Drax." |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | Lieutenant Batista getting fired from Miami-Metro, having to work at Starbucks hearing you bitch about your drink and then leaping over the counter and beating your ass sounds funny and tragic. | I entered into the little cafe on the corner. It was a quiet day in may, the year 2031. My eyes scanned over the coffee shop coming to rest upon the large man behind the counter. Tattoos coated what parts of his arm unhidden by his black and green polo top. A thick beard coated his chin black locks upon his head.
Oh how he had fallen from grace from fame and fortune. A former world champion, A Former Movie Star. I stood in front of the counter scanning the drink placed into my hand. His eyes would scan me I could feel the nervousness from the male hoping he wouldn't be noticed. My mouth dry I slowy opened it letting out a short sentence.
"This isn't what I ordered, Drax." |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | **MAN:** Excuse me, I think there's been a mistake. I ordered the double choc--
**BARISTA:** Sorry, that's for the man behind you. He has the same name as you. Here's your soy bullshit, Jebediah! And here you go with some non fat milk contraption other Jebediah.
**MAN:** Thanks. (turns) (walks towards door) (slips on puddle of spilt half and half) ARRRRRGH! MY LEG!
**BARISTA:** Whoa! You can see bone sticking out!
**MAN:** I'm hurt!
**BARISTA:** Does anyone here know CPR?
**MAN:** CPR? CALL A FREAKIN' AMBULANCE!
**BARISTA:** Hey! Anyone got a phone?
**MAN:** MINE'S ON THE FLOOR RIGHT THERE COVERED IN BLOOD DEAR GOD CALL FOR HELP!!!
**BARISTA:** So sticky! OK, just gotta swipe it open and... uh-oh.
**MAN:** HURRY UP!
**BARISTA:** There's a text here from your wife. She says she's leaving you.
**MAN:** DON'T CARE! CALL THE GODDAMN AMBULANCE!
**BARISTA:** Yes, we need an ambulance for Jedediah. No, the other one. The non fat guy, not Jebby Soy. (laughs) Yeah, uh-huh. Hey, they say they're already at your house.
**MAN:** WHAT?
**BARISTA:** The twins are dead. They were playing on the roof and snapped their neck when they fell off.
**MAN:** OH MY GOD!
**BARISTA:** But they're sending another ambulance for you, right after the clean off the front of the one that ran over your dog.
**MAN** Duke is dead, too?
**BARISTA:** Yes, but he was already dead when the ambulance ran him over. He got shot by your neighbor.
**MAN:** WHAT????
**BARISTA:** I can hear the siren now. It should be here in a-- oh, Jebby Soy. What's that? Oh, right! I get those mixed up all the time. I made two soy drinks and no non fat one.
**MAN:** I DIDN'T EVEN GET THE RIGHT COFFEE?
**BARISTA:** Whoops!
*END SCENE* | “Here,” he said, as he placed a coffee in front me.
His voice woke me from my silent stupor, grounding me back into reality. He sat down, and sipped his coffee.
“Thought you might like something different,” he said.
I took a sip. It was sweet. This was not the caffe vanilla light frappucino with no fat milk that I asked for.
“It’s a double chocolaty chip crème frappuccino with soy,” he said knowingly.
His words were all I could focus on.
“Here,” he said.
He handed me several napkins. I took them, dried my eyes, and blew my nose. I didn’t care that people heard. I looked at him through swollen eyes; his were holding back pain.
“Dad…” I said meekly.
He started to sob. I hugged him hard and cried.
“It’s okay. It’s okay,” he said.
I sat back down and took a long drink from my coffee. He looked at me reassuringly and said, “We’re gonna be okay.”
He managed a smile. I took another long drink and smiled in between sniffles.
Five years ago, I broke my habit of always ordering the same drink. Today I order my coffee alone.
“Dad.”
I take a long drink.
"It hurts."
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | **MAN:** Excuse me, I think there's been a mistake. I ordered the double choc--
**BARISTA:** Sorry, that's for the man behind you. He has the same name as you. Here's your soy bullshit, Jebediah! And here you go with some non fat milk contraption other Jebediah.
**MAN:** Thanks. (turns) (walks towards door) (slips on puddle of spilt half and half) ARRRRRGH! MY LEG!
**BARISTA:** Whoa! You can see bone sticking out!
**MAN:** I'm hurt!
**BARISTA:** Does anyone here know CPR?
**MAN:** CPR? CALL A FREAKIN' AMBULANCE!
**BARISTA:** Hey! Anyone got a phone?
**MAN:** MINE'S ON THE FLOOR RIGHT THERE COVERED IN BLOOD DEAR GOD CALL FOR HELP!!!
**BARISTA:** So sticky! OK, just gotta swipe it open and... uh-oh.
**MAN:** HURRY UP!
**BARISTA:** There's a text here from your wife. She says she's leaving you.
**MAN:** DON'T CARE! CALL THE GODDAMN AMBULANCE!
**BARISTA:** Yes, we need an ambulance for Jedediah. No, the other one. The non fat guy, not Jebby Soy. (laughs) Yeah, uh-huh. Hey, they say they're already at your house.
**MAN:** WHAT?
**BARISTA:** The twins are dead. They were playing on the roof and snapped their neck when they fell off.
**MAN:** OH MY GOD!
**BARISTA:** But they're sending another ambulance for you, right after the clean off the front of the one that ran over your dog.
**MAN** Duke is dead, too?
**BARISTA:** Yes, but he was already dead when the ambulance ran him over. He got shot by your neighbor.
**MAN:** WHAT????
**BARISTA:** I can hear the siren now. It should be here in a-- oh, Jebby Soy. What's that? Oh, right! I get those mixed up all the time. I made two soy drinks and no non fat one.
**MAN:** I DIDN'T EVEN GET THE RIGHT COFFEE?
**BARISTA:** Whoops!
*END SCENE* | I took it silently and sat down, stirring it while the seat under me warmed up. The spot on my left remained empty-- something that'd still take some getting used to.
I smiled as I thought about the little guy, running around the place and needing frequent reminders that he needed to sit down and drink his hot chocolate. Demanding that I give him some of my drink. Every single weekend when I picked him up from his mom's place.
I pushed the drink away a few inches as I lifted my head back and inhaled a deep, staggered breath. I was hoping what I'd ordered would be a good transition drink. Something to bring me out of the funk I'd been in.
As quiet as I am, even my friends were noticing I hadn't been around as much. A few of them had come over the first week or two after the tyke had gone into the hospital, but I guess as the stress built up and I'd sort of collapsed, I'd just neglected to taking their phone calls.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket, ignoring the month and a half of missed calls that had piled up. Ignoring the obligatory "sorry for your loss" messages that my friends had left. I started a new message to my buddy Brian, "Hey dude-- it's been awhile. Want to grab a beer this weekend?"
Mid-message I heard one of the Barista's call over, "Sir? Is your drink okay? We can make you a new one if you don't like it."
I hit send and mulled it over for a split second. "No, it's fine." I took a drink of the super sweet chocolaty drink he'd put in front of me and chuckled to myself. The gremlin would have loved this. |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | **MAN:** Excuse me, I think there's been a mistake. I ordered the double choc--
**BARISTA:** Sorry, that's for the man behind you. He has the same name as you. Here's your soy bullshit, Jebediah! And here you go with some non fat milk contraption other Jebediah.
**MAN:** Thanks. (turns) (walks towards door) (slips on puddle of spilt half and half) ARRRRRGH! MY LEG!
**BARISTA:** Whoa! You can see bone sticking out!
**MAN:** I'm hurt!
**BARISTA:** Does anyone here know CPR?
**MAN:** CPR? CALL A FREAKIN' AMBULANCE!
**BARISTA:** Hey! Anyone got a phone?
**MAN:** MINE'S ON THE FLOOR RIGHT THERE COVERED IN BLOOD DEAR GOD CALL FOR HELP!!!
**BARISTA:** So sticky! OK, just gotta swipe it open and... uh-oh.
**MAN:** HURRY UP!
**BARISTA:** There's a text here from your wife. She says she's leaving you.
**MAN:** DON'T CARE! CALL THE GODDAMN AMBULANCE!
**BARISTA:** Yes, we need an ambulance for Jedediah. No, the other one. The non fat guy, not Jebby Soy. (laughs) Yeah, uh-huh. Hey, they say they're already at your house.
**MAN:** WHAT?
**BARISTA:** The twins are dead. They were playing on the roof and snapped their neck when they fell off.
**MAN:** OH MY GOD!
**BARISTA:** But they're sending another ambulance for you, right after the clean off the front of the one that ran over your dog.
**MAN** Duke is dead, too?
**BARISTA:** Yes, but he was already dead when the ambulance ran him over. He got shot by your neighbor.
**MAN:** WHAT????
**BARISTA:** I can hear the siren now. It should be here in a-- oh, Jebby Soy. What's that? Oh, right! I get those mixed up all the time. I made two soy drinks and no non fat one.
**MAN:** I DIDN'T EVEN GET THE RIGHT COFFEE?
**BARISTA:** Whoops!
*END SCENE* | Any other day of the week I would have made my own damn cup of coffee. Instead, today was our anniversary. To celebrate I have to order her favorite. Of course the rain came down in sheets and the freezing air nipped every part of my exposed body. But it's all worth it. It's all worth it for you.
Shivering as I finally enter the warmth of the local Starbucks, the fragrance of fresh roasted coffee grounds blossoming beneath me I choke back tears. I'm here, for you. Because you love these damn, stupid things.
A disinterested, willowy young girl half-heartedly greeted me and I ask for your order. I give her my change and step back to take a sip.
Instead of memories flooding me, the first time we met (12 am in that shitty downtown Starbucks while cramming for finals), or how funny I thought it was when you sucked them back constantly while pregnant with our beautiful daughter, or the times when you had a rotten day and you'd smile when I brought you one, your face lighting up like you'd one the goddamn lottery.
Instead of all that, it tastes off. I quickly ask "Excuse me, is this a double chocolate chip creme with soy?" And the disinterested girl looks stunned and says, "No, I'm sorry I made it with non-fat milk."
And I crumble and being to shake and in my rage run out into that shitty, fucking weather and cry until I feel like I'll die. Then finally, maybe we'd be together. Then things would be like they were before you got that horrible, unfair disease that ate you from the inside out. That peace of shit unlucky hand. Watching you wither and wilt and fade away.
Now all I have is that stupid, goddamn drink to remember you. |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | That was when it hit me.
What a joke I am.
All that rage... so much rage. It burned inside me; the flames scalded me, transformed me into a withered husk of what I had once been.
It was ugly. So ugly.
What was it? What had happened to me that caused this insatiable wrath? What could have me frothing with such red, acidic hatred?
I was a terrible person. I made other people so sad and frightened and I enjoyed it. I was fueled by a vortex of pure, venomous malice. And what triggered such an absurdly hyperbolic reaction? What sparked my fit of bilious malice?
I was given the wrong drink.
That was it.
It wasn't worth it. Oh, God, it wasn't worth it at all. | "Aye Me! For aught that I could ever read, could ever tell by the course of history! the course of true love never did run smooth, but either it was different in love, or misgraphed in the course of years, or it stood upon the choice of friends. If there was a sympathy in choice, war death or sickness did lay siege to it making it momentary as a sound, quick as shadow, swift as the wind, and brief as the lightning in the coiled night so that quick bright things, come to confusion!!! Good day to you sir" proceeds to bite his thumb at said barista and storms out the shop in both anger and sadness |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | I went to starbucks this morning. I was on my phone and not really paying attention to the ba*r*ista who was serving me. What I got was not what I ordered. I turned around and started complaining loudly. That's when I realised that I was being served by WWE wrestler Ba*t*ista. His face got screwed up. He grabbed me and lifted me over his head and threw me down on the table and then poured the wrong coffee down my throat. | "Aye Me! For aught that I could ever read, could ever tell by the course of history! the course of true love never did run smooth, but either it was different in love, or misgraphed in the course of years, or it stood upon the choice of friends. If there was a sympathy in choice, war death or sickness did lay siege to it making it momentary as a sound, quick as shadow, swift as the wind, and brief as the lightning in the coiled night so that quick bright things, come to confusion!!! Good day to you sir" proceeds to bite his thumb at said barista and storms out the shop in both anger and sadness |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | I quietly shut the door and set the tray of coffee down on the bedside table. As I sat down in the corner chair by the window, I tried to drown out the insistent beeps with thought. That only served to make things worse - reminding me of how much more I should have done, and how it was too late for me to anything more. At least the coffee would be a special treat.
During what felt like hours, but was no more than ten minutes, I thought of what a failure I was. I threw my life away for a career I hate, never spending enough time with Susan or Michelle. If I had just said I couldn't make it to that meeting, if I had just driven the girls to Michelle's dance recital like I said I would, maybe Susan would still be here and Michelle, well.... wouldn't.
"Da... Dad?"
Hearing the weak, pained voice brought me back to the present. "Yes, sweetie, I'm here," I said through a smile, trying my hardest not to betray my true emotions.
"Where's mom? I remember her screaming, a loud crash... is she OK?" Michelle asked through a trembling voice. Did she already know the answer?
"She's.. she is at home, resting. I'll bring her here, first thing in the morning, OK?" It hurt, telling that lie. But the doctors warned me Michelle wouldn't make it through the night, and I can't bear to see any more pain on her beautiful face. "She told me to get this for you, though" I said, as I held the drink in front of her so she could take a sip. It was a special treat that Susan got Michelle after her dance classes. Susan said that it was Michelle's favorite drink, and that it would mean a lot of I bought her one on the way home from the recital.
She perked up and smiled as I brought the straw to her lips, but the smile quickly faded as she took a sip.
"What's wrong, hunny? Are you in pain? I can see if the doctors could give you some more pain meds."
"Dad... what happened... mom? She knows... hate chocolate chips..." Tears streamed down Michelle's face, and I could see the life pour out of her in defeat, taking the last of her fight with it.
I managed a feeble, "I'm so sorry..." It wasn't enough. Nothing would be.
"Dad... you lied..." were the last words out of Michelles mouth. | "Aye Me! For aught that I could ever read, could ever tell by the course of history! the course of true love never did run smooth, but either it was different in love, or misgraphed in the course of years, or it stood upon the choice of friends. If there was a sympathy in choice, war death or sickness did lay siege to it making it momentary as a sound, quick as shadow, swift as the wind, and brief as the lightning in the coiled night so that quick bright things, come to confusion!!! Good day to you sir" proceeds to bite his thumb at said barista and storms out the shop in both anger and sadness |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | When you date someone for a long time, every little action and nuance becomes an ornamentation you remember. It somehow becomes engraved in your character. As if its now a part of your being. Anyone who has been there knows how literal this feels, and how terrifingly sad it is once they've left you.
Me and my ex were Starbucks fanatics. It's funny in retrospect, but sad to think of how nostalgic that place is now. I always try and avoid the one location we always went to, until one day I just couldn't avoid it. It was either be late and ruin my day or just get my frikken Caffe Vanilla Light Frappuccino (I know, its the Starbucks disease to have multo worded orders). I figured, it's been like three years, I doubt I'll fall to the floor is pain and sorrow upon walking in.
It was a bit eerie, but I made my way to the counter. Everything was fine, ordering was like at any other location. My autopilot got everything out efficiently and I stood to the side waiting for my order.
But when it came I knew that wasn't my order. A sense of anxiety started to creep into my as I recognized the drink.
"Excuse me, I didn't order this."
"I'm sorry, didn't you ask for the Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuccino?"
My heart sort of dented as I realized what I'd done. As if it were a second nature, and if somewhere in the back of my mind was a repeating record, I without a second thought order their drink. They always used to order it and I thought about each word everytime and admired how elaborate it was. I started laughing a bit because I knew what this meant. No matter how much I thought that I had made them a distant memory, they were still somewhere in my subconcious. This impending thought and feeling of it "never ending" overwhelmed me and I started to cry a little. Akwardly and meekly I apologized and left without the drink. Sitting now in my car I did something I never let myself do, just cry and cry until I couldnt anymore.
I came here to be on time. In a different kind of irony, I feel like I came here too soon. | "Aye Me! For aught that I could ever read, could ever tell by the course of history! the course of true love never did run smooth, but either it was different in love, or misgraphed in the course of years, or it stood upon the choice of friends. If there was a sympathy in choice, war death or sickness did lay siege to it making it momentary as a sound, quick as shadow, swift as the wind, and brief as the lightning in the coiled night so that quick bright things, come to confusion!!! Good day to you sir" proceeds to bite his thumb at said barista and storms out the shop in both anger and sadness |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | Lieutenant Batista getting fired from Miami-Metro, having to work at Starbucks hearing you bitch about your drink and then leaping over the counter and beating your ass sounds funny and tragic. | "Aye Me! For aught that I could ever read, could ever tell by the course of history! the course of true love never did run smooth, but either it was different in love, or misgraphed in the course of years, or it stood upon the choice of friends. If there was a sympathy in choice, war death or sickness did lay siege to it making it momentary as a sound, quick as shadow, swift as the wind, and brief as the lightning in the coiled night so that quick bright things, come to confusion!!! Good day to you sir" proceeds to bite his thumb at said barista and storms out the shop in both anger and sadness |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | Starbucks Batista
http://imgur.com/65k9noU
Starbucks Batista leaned over the counter and handed me my chocolaty beverage. He must have sensed my dissatisfaction because he looked at me with the most intense "fuck off or i will eat you" type of vibe...after a few seconds of uncomfortable staring he proclaimed "Basketballs....don't hold grudges" and that was that. | "Aye Me! For aught that I could ever read, could ever tell by the course of history! the course of true love never did run smooth, but either it was different in love, or misgraphed in the course of years, or it stood upon the choice of friends. If there was a sympathy in choice, war death or sickness did lay siege to it making it momentary as a sound, quick as shadow, swift as the wind, and brief as the lightning in the coiled night so that quick bright things, come to confusion!!! Good day to you sir" proceeds to bite his thumb at said barista and storms out the shop in both anger and sadness |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | I sat in my chair eying the drink I had not ordered, but I had to forgive the mistake as I choked back tears. In the soul crushing realization that "The Animal" Dave Batista was reduced to serving at Starbucks. It had not been so long ago that he was part of Evolution with Triple H and the Nature Boy Rick Flair. Now I look upon this once veritable mass of fury as he quietly slinks behind the counter to his dark fall from the public eye. A single tear drops from my cheek. | "Aye Me! For aught that I could ever read, could ever tell by the course of history! the course of true love never did run smooth, but either it was different in love, or misgraphed in the course of years, or it stood upon the choice of friends. If there was a sympathy in choice, war death or sickness did lay siege to it making it momentary as a sound, quick as shadow, swift as the wind, and brief as the lightning in the coiled night so that quick bright things, come to confusion!!! Good day to you sir" proceeds to bite his thumb at said barista and storms out the shop in both anger and sadness |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | "Hey... It's me Dom, today wasn't so good, It looks like they are letting me go after all. I'll be home soon, I'm in the coffee shop where we sat the first day we met, it's a Starbucks now, it still does our drink if you can believe that? I'll never forget how hot I was when I walked in that day, card missing and not enough change to buy a cold drink, yet there you were hand out stretched with the last money you had on earth, offering it to me. We bonded over that Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino, it was just a short year later it was my turn to hold my hand out to yours instead, but with a ring. Anyway, I had better go darling, the drink is nearly ready. I miss you honey."
After the automated voice thanked me for leaving her a message I go to place my phone back in my pocket, stealthily wiping my eyes clear of the collecting tears with my sleeve, lightly moistening the old worn fabric of my coat, the same coat I'd worn that day we had met, five years ago in fact.
"Sir?" I look up and see the Barista smiling at me. "Here you go sir" she chirps, handing me my coffee. I try to say thank you but the words simply stick in my throat, I manage a half smile and walk over to table by the window where we sat all those years ago, placing my coffee down before I sit, careful to not spill its contents lest I spoil my memories of this pace with anything bad.
I sigh, I've been doing it a lot recently, this sigh though... I feel strangely content, relieved even. I hated that job, good riddance in all honesty. I never had the courage to quit, I guess now I don't have to.
I take a sip of the coffee, the chocolate taste biting my tongue. It's not our coffee. It's... not... The tears come back again, but this time I make no effort to wipe them clear, not now, not this. This was supposed to be the same as before, I lose my self in the tears, I never even hear her approaching.
"Sir?" The voice of the Barista, but now subdued .
I look up at her, concern on her face.
"Why did she have to die?" I ask, the contents of the plastic coffee cup slowing pooling on the floor around me.
| "Aye Me! For aught that I could ever read, could ever tell by the course of history! the course of true love never did run smooth, but either it was different in love, or misgraphed in the course of years, or it stood upon the choice of friends. If there was a sympathy in choice, war death or sickness did lay siege to it making it momentary as a sound, quick as shadow, swift as the wind, and brief as the lightning in the coiled night so that quick bright things, come to confusion!!! Good day to you sir" proceeds to bite his thumb at said barista and storms out the shop in both anger and sadness |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | I sat down on the warm grass and made myself comfortable. Back against a large oak tree, sun dappled through the leaves. This couldn't be much better.
It's a shame all of these coffee places serve everything in cardboard these days. I guess I could have got it in a mug but that would involve staying in the coffee shop. People and me don't really work these days.
I take the top off the cardboard cup and inhale. This doesn't smell right. I'm getting no hint of vanilla, and it smells like what?...... chocolate?
I take sip and I immediately feel sick. IT'S NOT THE RIGHT FUCKING DRINK!!
I immediately feel the rage coming. I'm now running towards the coffee shop, drink in hand. I barge through the door and push my way to the front of the line. The young girl behind the counter is terrified, it's probably because I'm screaming at her. I'm demanding she give me what I ordered. She's apologising and saying something about being out of vanilla. I don't know what hse's saying but next thing my drink has been hurled at the wall behind the counter. I hear people shuffling to get away from me and now they're leaving the store.
A teenage boy is laughing at me. I confront him, and next thing I know he's pushed me to the ground. He calls me a stupid old bum and people are telling me to leave. I feel a hand on my arm helping me to my feet. I turn around to look at my saviour and see a very large security guard. He inform me it's time to go back to Berkeley Park and sweeps me through the front door.
I'm out on the street and I'm weeping. I shuffle off towards the park. They don't understand, they just don't. Vanilla Frappucino, that's all I wanted. I had to beg for 2 days to get enough money to buy it from Bellucci's, with their overpriced menu. They don't even recognise me, don't remember me. DON'T REMEMBER HER!!!!
It was her drink. My beautiful Cara. Oh sweet Cara! She used to meet me here every Friday during her break from school. This was her ridiculous drink, not mine. I bought this for her every Friday while she was at school. I bought this for her every Friday when she was in hospita and birng it to herl. This was our drink. She'd make fun of her stupid old man and his long black while she drank her trendy faux-coffee milkshake and I loved every damn minute of it.
This was before she got sick, when she got sick. Once she died, I'd have one every Friday. Every fucking Friday for what, two years? They don't remember me, they don;t remember her.
This was before I lost my job, lost my wife.... lost my mind? I can't afford to go to Belluci's every Friday now. Even if I could I'm not welcome there, I'm the crazy old homeless guy trying to act like he's 20 by drinking trendy overpriced drinks.
I check my pocket's. I have twenty-five cents. I can't buy anything, and they wouldn't let me in even if I could.
67 Fridays and counting now we haven't had a drink together. | "Aye Me! For aught that I could ever read, could ever tell by the course of history! the course of true love never did run smooth, but either it was different in love, or misgraphed in the course of years, or it stood upon the choice of friends. If there was a sympathy in choice, war death or sickness did lay siege to it making it momentary as a sound, quick as shadow, swift as the wind, and brief as the lightning in the coiled night so that quick bright things, come to confusion!!! Good day to you sir" proceeds to bite his thumb at said barista and storms out the shop in both anger and sadness |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | I shuffled away from the funeral, sniffling and trying to dry my eyes. Every Sunday, for the past ten years, I had gone to the home where my thankless and thoughtless parents had left my grandfather, and picked him up. I didn't always have gas money, and more than once I tried to hide my embarrassment when I saw him looking at my change engine light.
"Donny," he would say, "let me get this." And I would let him. I think it made him feel good, to be able to buy me the coffee I wanted. We would sit, him with his cup of straight black coffee, and me with my Cafe Vanilla Light Frappucino, with no fat milk, and talk about our lives. He had the best stories. Sometimes our barista would sit down and have a chat with us. Gramps would flirt with her, and she would humor him. The halcyon days.
Then things started to get bad. Maybe once in a while, Grampa would forget her name. Or forget mine. Or forget where we were. He'd call me Thomas, and ask when the L.T. was gonna be back with the new orders. I would tell him the war was decades ago, and he would laugh it off. The normally-deep wrinkles at the corners of his eyes would become just a little deeper, and I would try to forget.
And yet, we continued our pattern. Every Sunday, him with the black, me with my frappucino. The same order. The baristas came to know us, and to have that order ready when we walked in. Our table was always clear, always clean. It took on the cadence of ritual, and like all good rituals, provided comfort and security in a world that was slowly devolving around us, slipping away like the gossamer cobwebs of memory from my grandfather's failing grasp.
Then came the day when I knocked on that cheap, plywood door at the home, and there was no answer. The heart-thudding walk to the office. Trying to play it cool while I asked whether my grandfather might be in the rec room. The resigned look in the orderly's eyes. The listless way he jangled his keys to open the door.
The horrible, peaceful scene within.
The funeral had been worse. My false, teary-eyed parents accepting condolences like johnny-come-lately vampires. The alligator tears and bored looks at wristwatches. Sorry Granddad's death has inconvenienced you. Wouldn't want you to miss your football games, Dad.
I couldn't take it. After the graveside service, on this Sunday of all Sundays, I needed my ritual. I needed my comfort.
Luckily, it was a familiar barista. "Hey Jen," I said, sweeping in, bedecked in the black of mourning. "Get me the usual."
"Sure thing, Mr. Don," she said, and busied herself behind the counter. I sat at my usual table, staring forlornly at the empty seat across from me, willing time to reverse its inexorable flow to a time when the world wasn't missing its light.
Jen brought me my cup. I twisted it in my hands, feeling the cardboard buckle slightly under the pressure of my hands. I lifted it to my lips, stopped, and lowered it. "To you, Gramps," I said, a glass raised to empty air. After a limitless moment had been swept away, I again pressed the plastic rim of the cup to my lips, and drank.
The flavor of the Cafe Vanilla Light Frappucino, with no fat milk, is indescribable. One might as well assume he could explain the shimmering iridescence of a field of violets, waving in the wind, to a child blind from birth. It contains the sweetness and the bitter, the airy lightness and heavy creaminess that defines, for me, the appropriate taste of coffee. It is comfort reduced to a draught and poured for me by angels.
But the brew that basted my lips was foamy, chocolate-flavored, and granular, as if it contained shavings of chocolate. Beneath it all was the harsh, vegetal crispness of soy. I spit it out, the effluvium landing on the seat, my grandfather's seat. I dropped the cup. The table, our table, sat mutely as the lip popped off and dark, brown liquid began to run across its surface, following the infinitely mutable fractal pathways of chaos. I stood, too quickly, and into the person behind me. I heard her shout in alarm as her laptop fell from the table onto the ground. There was a sickening, crunching sound of impact.
Tears clogging my sight, I turned to flee. Straight into Jen. Hot coffee splashed between us. She yelped in pain and cursed. Her manager, thundering above the din, "Jennifer! That is not work appropriate language! Get your things and *leave*. If I've told you once, I've..."
I could not hear him as I burst through the door and into the parking lot. Quiet winter sun above me, cold air stinging my nose, I fumbled with my keys at the door of my car. Glass crunched beneath my feet. Glass? I looked. My window lay shattered, papers strewn about the inside of my car. A gaping maw where my stereo used to be. Who steals a stereo from a mid-90s Civic? Honestly?
I sat in the pile of shattered glass chips on my seat, and wondered why anyone ever even bothered. I cried then, cried at a time when I thought all my tears had been given to an unfeeling world. And a snippet of conversation not a month gone wormed its way into my brain.
"Don," my grandfather said across a gulf of time and loss, "sometimes life is shit. But that's OK. If life weren't shit, you could never appreciate a good moment."
The other door to my car opened. Jen sat down.
"Hey, someone got your order mixed up. Here's your actual coffee."
She got up to leave. I put a hand on her arm, restraining her.
"Sorry about your job," I muffled around sobs.
"Sorry about your grandfather. Don't worry about the job. I graduate in a month and already have something cool lined up. And my boss was a jerk, anyway."
"I'm glad," I sniffled.
"C'mon, we're getting out of here," Jen said, putting my keys in the ignition and turning it on. "If you're up to it, I'd like to say goodbye, properly, too." | "Aye Me! For aught that I could ever read, could ever tell by the course of history! the course of true love never did run smooth, but either it was different in love, or misgraphed in the course of years, or it stood upon the choice of friends. If there was a sympathy in choice, war death or sickness did lay siege to it making it momentary as a sound, quick as shadow, swift as the wind, and brief as the lightning in the coiled night so that quick bright things, come to confusion!!! Good day to you sir" proceeds to bite his thumb at said barista and storms out the shop in both anger and sadness |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | I looked back at the hulking mass of humanity with absolute disdain. It wasn't for the obvious reason though. I pitied Dave Batista and his new career. Once a top wrestling superstar, and more recently breakout action star, Dave had taken a swift fall from grace.
That green apron looked like it was tailored to fit a small child. Couldn't they have given him a bigger one? Did he choose it himself? Probably not. I don't think he is in control of anything at this point in his life.
I stood by and watched another unhappy patron belittle the former superstar. Now he was cursing at big Dave. Something disparaging about his belly button tattoo. That, admittedly, was a low blow. We all make mistakes. Unfortunately for Batista, the reverse tramp stamp was the least of his worries.
Why did he choke out that production assistant? A squabble over filtered water? There was too much irony at play here. Poor guy. He truly walks alone.
| "Aye Me! For aught that I could ever read, could ever tell by the course of history! the course of true love never did run smooth, but either it was different in love, or misgraphed in the course of years, or it stood upon the choice of friends. If there was a sympathy in choice, war death or sickness did lay siege to it making it momentary as a sound, quick as shadow, swift as the wind, and brief as the lightning in the coiled night so that quick bright things, come to confusion!!! Good day to you sir" proceeds to bite his thumb at said barista and storms out the shop in both anger and sadness |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | There he was, this empty shell of a legend, merely a copy of what was once a legend in the ring, now his clones working here at Starbucks. It was all part of the initiative to bring about a society like that in the infamous story ‘Brave New World’. The United States Conglomerate Government had started a cloning initiative that created copies of famous figures with lesser intelligences to work in places like McDonalds, Wal-Mart, and even Starbucks.
A Major downside to these clones was their lowered intelligence, often leading to production errors, and the current dilemma. I’d use the last of my Starbucks ration for the month in an attempt to order a Café Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk, but apparently that was a little too much for this clone because what I received was a chocolaty failure. I was handed a Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino. Normally this wouldn’t be an issue, or at least, years ago it wouldn’t have been, but due to overpopulation and lack of strict pollution laws for developing countries, the worlds coffee and chocolate supply dwindled to the edge of extinction for these plants. Remakes due to errors of any kind weren’t permitted, and due to a personal condition where my body could not process chocolate correctly, I was now stuck with this beverage that took the last of my ration and there was no recourse.
We stood there, the Starbucks Batista and I, this dimwitted false human who destroyed one of the very few enjoyments I get in life. My lips moved as if they were trying to say something, but the air wouldn’t leave my lips, I couldn’t manage it, something as commonplace as talking became difficult. A knot, the closest thing I could describe the feeling in my throat was a knot, and all I could receive was this blank stare from the Batista-like clone that stood in front of me.
Finally it happened, I couldn’t take it. In the past this would have been a small thing, a simple shrug and remedied within a minute, but not anymore. I didn’t realize what I had done until after the fact when I could reflect on it. In the next few moments there seemed to be a commotion, a cacophony of rage, the symphony of a man disturbed, and I was its composer and performer. I picked the cup up, and threw it on the floor, and my knee’s soon fell into a puddle of the dark brown, murky liquid. The tears came without warning, everything seemed to slow down, and the only thing I could hear was a deep bass bellowing in my chest, my heart pounding away as I accepted what was going on.
“Why… WHY YOU CRUEL BEAST?!”
No response, just a dull dimwitted stare, and that’s how I landed in this current predicament. The official police report comments on the clone having multiple lacerations on their face, all shallow, and non-life threatening, but it was the fact the head had been removed from the rest of the body that put me in my new home behind these bars. I was a damaged product in a flawed system, and so I would spend the rest of my days here, all because of that damned starbucks batista…
| "Aye Me! For aught that I could ever read, could ever tell by the course of history! the course of true love never did run smooth, but either it was different in love, or misgraphed in the course of years, or it stood upon the choice of friends. If there was a sympathy in choice, war death or sickness did lay siege to it making it momentary as a sound, quick as shadow, swift as the wind, and brief as the lightning in the coiled night so that quick bright things, come to confusion!!! Good day to you sir" proceeds to bite his thumb at said barista and storms out the shop in both anger and sadness |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | At last. My delicious, Caffe Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk.
I sat down at the table, and took a long swig of my nectar of the gods.
No.
This was wrong. Something was WRONG. As I looked down at my cup, inhuman scream bubbled from my very soul, and breached my lips as I stared at the ugly, awful betrayer at the front counter.
Her nametag read "Barb". A barb of fire and worms and all things terrible that had pierced my innocent heart with a Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuccino with SOY.
Soy was the last straw. The final brick in the wall of my eternal grief. I broke down at the table, sobbing into my arms, cursing the cruel god of coffee who had caused my terrible plight.
No. I had to be sane. I had to be calm, this was a public place. People would be watching me, so I had to act NORMAL. "Get a hold of yourself" I whispered, choking on my endless tears. I sniffed, and smiled up at the concerned crowd who had crowded around my table.
And then I looked down at my cup, and my hand tightened into a fist. How dare she. How DARE she. The black-hearted demon, the plague-ridden mistress of pain and destruction, "Barb" -
**Had put extra milk in my cup.** | "Aye Me! For aught that I could ever read, could ever tell by the course of history! the course of true love never did run smooth, but either it was different in love, or misgraphed in the course of years, or it stood upon the choice of friends. If there was a sympathy in choice, war death or sickness did lay siege to it making it momentary as a sound, quick as shadow, swift as the wind, and brief as the lightning in the coiled night so that quick bright things, come to confusion!!! Good day to you sir" proceeds to bite his thumb at said barista and storms out the shop in both anger and sadness |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | "How fucking hard is it!" I screamed at her face and slammed the cup down on the table. The knot in my stomach tightened, it had been a long since I accidentally drank a DCCCFw/S but I still remembered the consequences. Vividly!
In my rage I wanted to scream more, but as I opened my mouth the contents of my knotted stomach unleashed itself all over the baristas face. She was covered in my stomach's opinion of her mistake. What a fool.
Somehow I calmed down, I called my mother, the only person I have ever formed a relationship with because of my endless list of allergies. I held the phone to my barf covered face and said "it happened again, Soy this time, if I don't make it I want you to know, I love you."
The last thing I saw was a shocked barista, covered in a whitish yellowish bile and then everything faded.
...
I awoke with the sensation of a tube down my throat, and squinted into a fluorescent light while my memory came back. I remember, the Starbucks, the DCCCFw/S. I slowly sat up and saw my mother and the girl who served me the deadly coffee. She looked upset and held flowers, her face no longer had my stomach lining on it.
My mother started crying, tears of relief and the star bucks worker apologised, handing me the flowers. "Let me make it up to you" she said, "let me take you out to dinner some time". | "Aye Me! For aught that I could ever read, could ever tell by the course of history! the course of true love never did run smooth, but either it was different in love, or misgraphed in the course of years, or it stood upon the choice of friends. If there was a sympathy in choice, war death or sickness did lay siege to it making it momentary as a sound, quick as shadow, swift as the wind, and brief as the lightning in the coiled night so that quick bright things, come to confusion!!! Good day to you sir" proceeds to bite his thumb at said barista and storms out the shop in both anger and sadness |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | "WHAT THE HELL IS THIS GARBAGE!?"
He threw the cup across the ring.
"Getting fired from the WWE isn't enough Batista wants to go ahead and make crappy coffee too!"
The crowd roared as The Rock swayed around the center.
"Cafe vanilla! DO I LOOK LIKE A HIPSTER TO YOU , BATISTA?"
Batista sadly lowers his head, staring at his apron. Then grabs the Mic himself
"First things first, I LEFT. Wasn't fired . Second, I may make disgusting java, but I can still kick your ass"
He drops microphone as they begin to grapple.
* Thank you for the gold, kind stranger. Highest rated comment so far too. I may have to do more prompts now, lol.
| "Aye Me! For aught that I could ever read, could ever tell by the course of history! the course of true love never did run smooth, but either it was different in love, or misgraphed in the course of years, or it stood upon the choice of friends. If there was a sympathy in choice, war death or sickness did lay siege to it making it momentary as a sound, quick as shadow, swift as the wind, and brief as the lightning in the coiled night so that quick bright things, come to confusion!!! Good day to you sir" proceeds to bite his thumb at said barista and storms out the shop in both anger and sadness |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | Apparently being a regular has its drawbacks. For our past 10 anniversaries my wife and I have come to this Starbucks, ordered a Venti Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with Soy (she was lactose intolerant) and shared it in the booth where I proposed.
I probably should have known better, but I didn't know where else to go today. I couldn't bear the thought of drinking "our" drink alone so I ordered the first thing I saw on menu. A Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk, Tall.
The girl who fixed my drink must have recognized me from the last couple of years, because when I heard my name called it wasn't what I had ordered. I guess I'll sit at our booth alone now. | "Aye Me! For aught that I could ever read, could ever tell by the course of history! the course of true love never did run smooth, but either it was different in love, or misgraphed in the course of years, or it stood upon the choice of friends. If there was a sympathy in choice, war death or sickness did lay siege to it making it momentary as a sound, quick as shadow, swift as the wind, and brief as the lightning in the coiled night so that quick bright things, come to confusion!!! Good day to you sir" proceeds to bite his thumb at said barista and storms out the shop in both anger and sadness |
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | I went to starbucks this morning. I was on my phone and not really paying attention to the ba*r*ista who was serving me. What I got was not what I ordered. I turned around and started complaining loudly. That's when I realised that I was being served by WWE wrestler Ba*t*ista. His face got screwed up. He grabbed me and lifted me over his head and threw me down on the table and then poured the wrong coffee down my throat. | The doctor had said that he could have anything he wanted as there wasn't much time left.
We met at a coffee shop plenty of years ago. I held my Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino and he had the same thing, but with soy milk. We sat down at the only table as complete strangers, trying to convince one another that our own drink was superior. We rambled for so long that, eventually, we were asked to leave as they were closing. That night was the beginning of a new life.
"Jake!" The barista yelled, trying to get my attention. I stopped daydreaming and took the two drinks concealed in hot drink cups, ordered this time with soy, and left the Starbucks stationed in the lobby of the hospital at which he was staying. As I walked towards the ICU, I feigned a smile for him before opening the door.
"Hey Jake," Ben started, "I see you have our drink." For the amount of pain he was in, he grinned convincingly. I handed him his drink and took a sip of my own. Immediately, I realized that it wasn't what I ordered. I looked over to Ben, who was still grinning and cherishing the refreshment. "It's so good. Thanks Jake, but I'm going to get some sleep now; I'm quite tired."
As the man fell into his slumber and his grin started to disappear, the heart monitor flat lined and marked his passing. I sat beside him, but was fixated at his drink. I eventually decided to take a sip, and realized it was also wrong. Perhaps the therapy had destroyed his taste buds, but at least he thought it was his favorite drink, the Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frap with soy.
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | I quietly shut the door and set the tray of coffee down on the bedside table. As I sat down in the corner chair by the window, I tried to drown out the insistent beeps with thought. That only served to make things worse - reminding me of how much more I should have done, and how it was too late for me to anything more. At least the coffee would be a special treat.
During what felt like hours, but was no more than ten minutes, I thought of what a failure I was. I threw my life away for a career I hate, never spending enough time with Susan or Michelle. If I had just said I couldn't make it to that meeting, if I had just driven the girls to Michelle's dance recital like I said I would, maybe Susan would still be here and Michelle, well.... wouldn't.
"Da... Dad?"
Hearing the weak, pained voice brought me back to the present. "Yes, sweetie, I'm here," I said through a smile, trying my hardest not to betray my true emotions.
"Where's mom? I remember her screaming, a loud crash... is she OK?" Michelle asked through a trembling voice. Did she already know the answer?
"She's.. she is at home, resting. I'll bring her here, first thing in the morning, OK?" It hurt, telling that lie. But the doctors warned me Michelle wouldn't make it through the night, and I can't bear to see any more pain on her beautiful face. "She told me to get this for you, though" I said, as I held the drink in front of her so she could take a sip. It was a special treat that Susan got Michelle after her dance classes. Susan said that it was Michelle's favorite drink, and that it would mean a lot of I bought her one on the way home from the recital.
She perked up and smiled as I brought the straw to her lips, but the smile quickly faded as she took a sip.
"What's wrong, hunny? Are you in pain? I can see if the doctors could give you some more pain meds."
"Dad... what happened... mom? She knows... hate chocolate chips..." Tears streamed down Michelle's face, and I could see the life pour out of her in defeat, taking the last of her fight with it.
I managed a feeble, "I'm so sorry..." It wasn't enough. Nothing would be.
"Dad... you lied..." were the last words out of Michelles mouth. | The doctor had said that he could have anything he wanted as there wasn't much time left.
We met at a coffee shop plenty of years ago. I held my Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino and he had the same thing, but with soy milk. We sat down at the only table as complete strangers, trying to convince one another that our own drink was superior. We rambled for so long that, eventually, we were asked to leave as they were closing. That night was the beginning of a new life.
"Jake!" The barista yelled, trying to get my attention. I stopped daydreaming and took the two drinks concealed in hot drink cups, ordered this time with soy, and left the Starbucks stationed in the lobby of the hospital at which he was staying. As I walked towards the ICU, I feigned a smile for him before opening the door.
"Hey Jake," Ben started, "I see you have our drink." For the amount of pain he was in, he grinned convincingly. I handed him his drink and took a sip of my own. Immediately, I realized that it wasn't what I ordered. I looked over to Ben, who was still grinning and cherishing the refreshment. "It's so good. Thanks Jake, but I'm going to get some sleep now; I'm quite tired."
As the man fell into his slumber and his grin started to disappear, the heart monitor flat lined and marked his passing. I sat beside him, but was fixated at his drink. I eventually decided to take a sip, and realized it was also wrong. Perhaps the therapy had destroyed his taste buds, but at least he thought it was his favorite drink, the Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frap with soy.
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | When you date someone for a long time, every little action and nuance becomes an ornamentation you remember. It somehow becomes engraved in your character. As if its now a part of your being. Anyone who has been there knows how literal this feels, and how terrifingly sad it is once they've left you.
Me and my ex were Starbucks fanatics. It's funny in retrospect, but sad to think of how nostalgic that place is now. I always try and avoid the one location we always went to, until one day I just couldn't avoid it. It was either be late and ruin my day or just get my frikken Caffe Vanilla Light Frappuccino (I know, its the Starbucks disease to have multo worded orders). I figured, it's been like three years, I doubt I'll fall to the floor is pain and sorrow upon walking in.
It was a bit eerie, but I made my way to the counter. Everything was fine, ordering was like at any other location. My autopilot got everything out efficiently and I stood to the side waiting for my order.
But when it came I knew that wasn't my order. A sense of anxiety started to creep into my as I recognized the drink.
"Excuse me, I didn't order this."
"I'm sorry, didn't you ask for the Double Chocolaty Chip Creme Frappuccino?"
My heart sort of dented as I realized what I'd done. As if it were a second nature, and if somewhere in the back of my mind was a repeating record, I without a second thought order their drink. They always used to order it and I thought about each word everytime and admired how elaborate it was. I started laughing a bit because I knew what this meant. No matter how much I thought that I had made them a distant memory, they were still somewhere in my subconcious. This impending thought and feeling of it "never ending" overwhelmed me and I started to cry a little. Akwardly and meekly I apologized and left without the drink. Sitting now in my car I did something I never let myself do, just cry and cry until I couldnt anymore.
I came here to be on time. In a different kind of irony, I feel like I came here too soon. | The doctor had said that he could have anything he wanted as there wasn't much time left.
We met at a coffee shop plenty of years ago. I held my Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino and he had the same thing, but with soy milk. We sat down at the only table as complete strangers, trying to convince one another that our own drink was superior. We rambled for so long that, eventually, we were asked to leave as they were closing. That night was the beginning of a new life.
"Jake!" The barista yelled, trying to get my attention. I stopped daydreaming and took the two drinks concealed in hot drink cups, ordered this time with soy, and left the Starbucks stationed in the lobby of the hospital at which he was staying. As I walked towards the ICU, I feigned a smile for him before opening the door.
"Hey Jake," Ben started, "I see you have our drink." For the amount of pain he was in, he grinned convincingly. I handed him his drink and took a sip of my own. Immediately, I realized that it wasn't what I ordered. I looked over to Ben, who was still grinning and cherishing the refreshment. "It's so good. Thanks Jake, but I'm going to get some sleep now; I'm quite tired."
As the man fell into his slumber and his grin started to disappear, the heart monitor flat lined and marked his passing. I sat beside him, but was fixated at his drink. I eventually decided to take a sip, and realized it was also wrong. Perhaps the therapy had destroyed his taste buds, but at least he thought it was his favorite drink, the Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frap with soy.
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | Lieutenant Batista getting fired from Miami-Metro, having to work at Starbucks hearing you bitch about your drink and then leaping over the counter and beating your ass sounds funny and tragic. | The doctor had said that he could have anything he wanted as there wasn't much time left.
We met at a coffee shop plenty of years ago. I held my Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino and he had the same thing, but with soy milk. We sat down at the only table as complete strangers, trying to convince one another that our own drink was superior. We rambled for so long that, eventually, we were asked to leave as they were closing. That night was the beginning of a new life.
"Jake!" The barista yelled, trying to get my attention. I stopped daydreaming and took the two drinks concealed in hot drink cups, ordered this time with soy, and left the Starbucks stationed in the lobby of the hospital at which he was staying. As I walked towards the ICU, I feigned a smile for him before opening the door.
"Hey Jake," Ben started, "I see you have our drink." For the amount of pain he was in, he grinned convincingly. I handed him his drink and took a sip of my own. Immediately, I realized that it wasn't what I ordered. I looked over to Ben, who was still grinning and cherishing the refreshment. "It's so good. Thanks Jake, but I'm going to get some sleep now; I'm quite tired."
As the man fell into his slumber and his grin started to disappear, the heart monitor flat lined and marked his passing. I sat beside him, but was fixated at his drink. I eventually decided to take a sip, and realized it was also wrong. Perhaps the therapy had destroyed his taste buds, but at least he thought it was his favorite drink, the Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frap with soy.
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | Starbucks Batista
http://imgur.com/65k9noU
Starbucks Batista leaned over the counter and handed me my chocolaty beverage. He must have sensed my dissatisfaction because he looked at me with the most intense "fuck off or i will eat you" type of vibe...after a few seconds of uncomfortable staring he proclaimed "Basketballs....don't hold grudges" and that was that. | The doctor had said that he could have anything he wanted as there wasn't much time left.
We met at a coffee shop plenty of years ago. I held my Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino and he had the same thing, but with soy milk. We sat down at the only table as complete strangers, trying to convince one another that our own drink was superior. We rambled for so long that, eventually, we were asked to leave as they were closing. That night was the beginning of a new life.
"Jake!" The barista yelled, trying to get my attention. I stopped daydreaming and took the two drinks concealed in hot drink cups, ordered this time with soy, and left the Starbucks stationed in the lobby of the hospital at which he was staying. As I walked towards the ICU, I feigned a smile for him before opening the door.
"Hey Jake," Ben started, "I see you have our drink." For the amount of pain he was in, he grinned convincingly. I handed him his drink and took a sip of my own. Immediately, I realized that it wasn't what I ordered. I looked over to Ben, who was still grinning and cherishing the refreshment. "It's so good. Thanks Jake, but I'm going to get some sleep now; I'm quite tired."
As the man fell into his slumber and his grin started to disappear, the heart monitor flat lined and marked his passing. I sat beside him, but was fixated at his drink. I eventually decided to take a sip, and realized it was also wrong. Perhaps the therapy had destroyed his taste buds, but at least he thought it was his favorite drink, the Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frap with soy.
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | I sat in my chair eying the drink I had not ordered, but I had to forgive the mistake as I choked back tears. In the soul crushing realization that "The Animal" Dave Batista was reduced to serving at Starbucks. It had not been so long ago that he was part of Evolution with Triple H and the Nature Boy Rick Flair. Now I look upon this once veritable mass of fury as he quietly slinks behind the counter to his dark fall from the public eye. A single tear drops from my cheek. | The doctor had said that he could have anything he wanted as there wasn't much time left.
We met at a coffee shop plenty of years ago. I held my Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino and he had the same thing, but with soy milk. We sat down at the only table as complete strangers, trying to convince one another that our own drink was superior. We rambled for so long that, eventually, we were asked to leave as they were closing. That night was the beginning of a new life.
"Jake!" The barista yelled, trying to get my attention. I stopped daydreaming and took the two drinks concealed in hot drink cups, ordered this time with soy, and left the Starbucks stationed in the lobby of the hospital at which he was staying. As I walked towards the ICU, I feigned a smile for him before opening the door.
"Hey Jake," Ben started, "I see you have our drink." For the amount of pain he was in, he grinned convincingly. I handed him his drink and took a sip of my own. Immediately, I realized that it wasn't what I ordered. I looked over to Ben, who was still grinning and cherishing the refreshment. "It's so good. Thanks Jake, but I'm going to get some sleep now; I'm quite tired."
As the man fell into his slumber and his grin started to disappear, the heart monitor flat lined and marked his passing. I sat beside him, but was fixated at his drink. I eventually decided to take a sip, and realized it was also wrong. Perhaps the therapy had destroyed his taste buds, but at least he thought it was his favorite drink, the Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frap with soy.
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | "Hey... It's me Dom, today wasn't so good, It looks like they are letting me go after all. I'll be home soon, I'm in the coffee shop where we sat the first day we met, it's a Starbucks now, it still does our drink if you can believe that? I'll never forget how hot I was when I walked in that day, card missing and not enough change to buy a cold drink, yet there you were hand out stretched with the last money you had on earth, offering it to me. We bonded over that Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino, it was just a short year later it was my turn to hold my hand out to yours instead, but with a ring. Anyway, I had better go darling, the drink is nearly ready. I miss you honey."
After the automated voice thanked me for leaving her a message I go to place my phone back in my pocket, stealthily wiping my eyes clear of the collecting tears with my sleeve, lightly moistening the old worn fabric of my coat, the same coat I'd worn that day we had met, five years ago in fact.
"Sir?" I look up and see the Barista smiling at me. "Here you go sir" she chirps, handing me my coffee. I try to say thank you but the words simply stick in my throat, I manage a half smile and walk over to table by the window where we sat all those years ago, placing my coffee down before I sit, careful to not spill its contents lest I spoil my memories of this pace with anything bad.
I sigh, I've been doing it a lot recently, this sigh though... I feel strangely content, relieved even. I hated that job, good riddance in all honesty. I never had the courage to quit, I guess now I don't have to.
I take a sip of the coffee, the chocolate taste biting my tongue. It's not our coffee. It's... not... The tears come back again, but this time I make no effort to wipe them clear, not now, not this. This was supposed to be the same as before, I lose my self in the tears, I never even hear her approaching.
"Sir?" The voice of the Barista, but now subdued .
I look up at her, concern on her face.
"Why did she have to die?" I ask, the contents of the plastic coffee cup slowing pooling on the floor around me.
| The doctor had said that he could have anything he wanted as there wasn't much time left.
We met at a coffee shop plenty of years ago. I held my Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino and he had the same thing, but with soy milk. We sat down at the only table as complete strangers, trying to convince one another that our own drink was superior. We rambled for so long that, eventually, we were asked to leave as they were closing. That night was the beginning of a new life.
"Jake!" The barista yelled, trying to get my attention. I stopped daydreaming and took the two drinks concealed in hot drink cups, ordered this time with soy, and left the Starbucks stationed in the lobby of the hospital at which he was staying. As I walked towards the ICU, I feigned a smile for him before opening the door.
"Hey Jake," Ben started, "I see you have our drink." For the amount of pain he was in, he grinned convincingly. I handed him his drink and took a sip of my own. Immediately, I realized that it wasn't what I ordered. I looked over to Ben, who was still grinning and cherishing the refreshment. "It's so good. Thanks Jake, but I'm going to get some sleep now; I'm quite tired."
As the man fell into his slumber and his grin started to disappear, the heart monitor flat lined and marked his passing. I sat beside him, but was fixated at his drink. I eventually decided to take a sip, and realized it was also wrong. Perhaps the therapy had destroyed his taste buds, but at least he thought it was his favorite drink, the Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frap with soy.
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | I shuffled away from the funeral, sniffling and trying to dry my eyes. Every Sunday, for the past ten years, I had gone to the home where my thankless and thoughtless parents had left my grandfather, and picked him up. I didn't always have gas money, and more than once I tried to hide my embarrassment when I saw him looking at my change engine light.
"Donny," he would say, "let me get this." And I would let him. I think it made him feel good, to be able to buy me the coffee I wanted. We would sit, him with his cup of straight black coffee, and me with my Cafe Vanilla Light Frappucino, with no fat milk, and talk about our lives. He had the best stories. Sometimes our barista would sit down and have a chat with us. Gramps would flirt with her, and she would humor him. The halcyon days.
Then things started to get bad. Maybe once in a while, Grampa would forget her name. Or forget mine. Or forget where we were. He'd call me Thomas, and ask when the L.T. was gonna be back with the new orders. I would tell him the war was decades ago, and he would laugh it off. The normally-deep wrinkles at the corners of his eyes would become just a little deeper, and I would try to forget.
And yet, we continued our pattern. Every Sunday, him with the black, me with my frappucino. The same order. The baristas came to know us, and to have that order ready when we walked in. Our table was always clear, always clean. It took on the cadence of ritual, and like all good rituals, provided comfort and security in a world that was slowly devolving around us, slipping away like the gossamer cobwebs of memory from my grandfather's failing grasp.
Then came the day when I knocked on that cheap, plywood door at the home, and there was no answer. The heart-thudding walk to the office. Trying to play it cool while I asked whether my grandfather might be in the rec room. The resigned look in the orderly's eyes. The listless way he jangled his keys to open the door.
The horrible, peaceful scene within.
The funeral had been worse. My false, teary-eyed parents accepting condolences like johnny-come-lately vampires. The alligator tears and bored looks at wristwatches. Sorry Granddad's death has inconvenienced you. Wouldn't want you to miss your football games, Dad.
I couldn't take it. After the graveside service, on this Sunday of all Sundays, I needed my ritual. I needed my comfort.
Luckily, it was a familiar barista. "Hey Jen," I said, sweeping in, bedecked in the black of mourning. "Get me the usual."
"Sure thing, Mr. Don," she said, and busied herself behind the counter. I sat at my usual table, staring forlornly at the empty seat across from me, willing time to reverse its inexorable flow to a time when the world wasn't missing its light.
Jen brought me my cup. I twisted it in my hands, feeling the cardboard buckle slightly under the pressure of my hands. I lifted it to my lips, stopped, and lowered it. "To you, Gramps," I said, a glass raised to empty air. After a limitless moment had been swept away, I again pressed the plastic rim of the cup to my lips, and drank.
The flavor of the Cafe Vanilla Light Frappucino, with no fat milk, is indescribable. One might as well assume he could explain the shimmering iridescence of a field of violets, waving in the wind, to a child blind from birth. It contains the sweetness and the bitter, the airy lightness and heavy creaminess that defines, for me, the appropriate taste of coffee. It is comfort reduced to a draught and poured for me by angels.
But the brew that basted my lips was foamy, chocolate-flavored, and granular, as if it contained shavings of chocolate. Beneath it all was the harsh, vegetal crispness of soy. I spit it out, the effluvium landing on the seat, my grandfather's seat. I dropped the cup. The table, our table, sat mutely as the lip popped off and dark, brown liquid began to run across its surface, following the infinitely mutable fractal pathways of chaos. I stood, too quickly, and into the person behind me. I heard her shout in alarm as her laptop fell from the table onto the ground. There was a sickening, crunching sound of impact.
Tears clogging my sight, I turned to flee. Straight into Jen. Hot coffee splashed between us. She yelped in pain and cursed. Her manager, thundering above the din, "Jennifer! That is not work appropriate language! Get your things and *leave*. If I've told you once, I've..."
I could not hear him as I burst through the door and into the parking lot. Quiet winter sun above me, cold air stinging my nose, I fumbled with my keys at the door of my car. Glass crunched beneath my feet. Glass? I looked. My window lay shattered, papers strewn about the inside of my car. A gaping maw where my stereo used to be. Who steals a stereo from a mid-90s Civic? Honestly?
I sat in the pile of shattered glass chips on my seat, and wondered why anyone ever even bothered. I cried then, cried at a time when I thought all my tears had been given to an unfeeling world. And a snippet of conversation not a month gone wormed its way into my brain.
"Don," my grandfather said across a gulf of time and loss, "sometimes life is shit. But that's OK. If life weren't shit, you could never appreciate a good moment."
The other door to my car opened. Jen sat down.
"Hey, someone got your order mixed up. Here's your actual coffee."
She got up to leave. I put a hand on her arm, restraining her.
"Sorry about your job," I muffled around sobs.
"Sorry about your grandfather. Don't worry about the job. I graduate in a month and already have something cool lined up. And my boss was a jerk, anyway."
"I'm glad," I sniffled.
"C'mon, we're getting out of here," Jen said, putting my keys in the ignition and turning it on. "If you're up to it, I'd like to say goodbye, properly, too." | The doctor had said that he could have anything he wanted as there wasn't much time left.
We met at a coffee shop plenty of years ago. I held my Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino and he had the same thing, but with soy milk. We sat down at the only table as complete strangers, trying to convince one another that our own drink was superior. We rambled for so long that, eventually, we were asked to leave as they were closing. That night was the beginning of a new life.
"Jake!" The barista yelled, trying to get my attention. I stopped daydreaming and took the two drinks concealed in hot drink cups, ordered this time with soy, and left the Starbucks stationed in the lobby of the hospital at which he was staying. As I walked towards the ICU, I feigned a smile for him before opening the door.
"Hey Jake," Ben started, "I see you have our drink." For the amount of pain he was in, he grinned convincingly. I handed him his drink and took a sip of my own. Immediately, I realized that it wasn't what I ordered. I looked over to Ben, who was still grinning and cherishing the refreshment. "It's so good. Thanks Jake, but I'm going to get some sleep now; I'm quite tired."
As the man fell into his slumber and his grin started to disappear, the heart monitor flat lined and marked his passing. I sat beside him, but was fixated at his drink. I eventually decided to take a sip, and realized it was also wrong. Perhaps the therapy had destroyed his taste buds, but at least he thought it was his favorite drink, the Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frap with soy.
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | I looked back at the hulking mass of humanity with absolute disdain. It wasn't for the obvious reason though. I pitied Dave Batista and his new career. Once a top wrestling superstar, and more recently breakout action star, Dave had taken a swift fall from grace.
That green apron looked like it was tailored to fit a small child. Couldn't they have given him a bigger one? Did he choose it himself? Probably not. I don't think he is in control of anything at this point in his life.
I stood by and watched another unhappy patron belittle the former superstar. Now he was cursing at big Dave. Something disparaging about his belly button tattoo. That, admittedly, was a low blow. We all make mistakes. Unfortunately for Batista, the reverse tramp stamp was the least of his worries.
Why did he choke out that production assistant? A squabble over filtered water? There was too much irony at play here. Poor guy. He truly walks alone.
| The doctor had said that he could have anything he wanted as there wasn't much time left.
We met at a coffee shop plenty of years ago. I held my Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino and he had the same thing, but with soy milk. We sat down at the only table as complete strangers, trying to convince one another that our own drink was superior. We rambled for so long that, eventually, we were asked to leave as they were closing. That night was the beginning of a new life.
"Jake!" The barista yelled, trying to get my attention. I stopped daydreaming and took the two drinks concealed in hot drink cups, ordered this time with soy, and left the Starbucks stationed in the lobby of the hospital at which he was staying. As I walked towards the ICU, I feigned a smile for him before opening the door.
"Hey Jake," Ben started, "I see you have our drink." For the amount of pain he was in, he grinned convincingly. I handed him his drink and took a sip of my own. Immediately, I realized that it wasn't what I ordered. I looked over to Ben, who was still grinning and cherishing the refreshment. "It's so good. Thanks Jake, but I'm going to get some sleep now; I'm quite tired."
As the man fell into his slumber and his grin started to disappear, the heart monitor flat lined and marked his passing. I sat beside him, but was fixated at his drink. I eventually decided to take a sip, and realized it was also wrong. Perhaps the therapy had destroyed his taste buds, but at least he thought it was his favorite drink, the Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frap with soy.
|
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | There he was, this empty shell of a legend, merely a copy of what was once a legend in the ring, now his clones working here at Starbucks. It was all part of the initiative to bring about a society like that in the infamous story ‘Brave New World’. The United States Conglomerate Government had started a cloning initiative that created copies of famous figures with lesser intelligences to work in places like McDonalds, Wal-Mart, and even Starbucks.
A Major downside to these clones was their lowered intelligence, often leading to production errors, and the current dilemma. I’d use the last of my Starbucks ration for the month in an attempt to order a Café Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk, but apparently that was a little too much for this clone because what I received was a chocolaty failure. I was handed a Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino. Normally this wouldn’t be an issue, or at least, years ago it wouldn’t have been, but due to overpopulation and lack of strict pollution laws for developing countries, the worlds coffee and chocolate supply dwindled to the edge of extinction for these plants. Remakes due to errors of any kind weren’t permitted, and due to a personal condition where my body could not process chocolate correctly, I was now stuck with this beverage that took the last of my ration and there was no recourse.
We stood there, the Starbucks Batista and I, this dimwitted false human who destroyed one of the very few enjoyments I get in life. My lips moved as if they were trying to say something, but the air wouldn’t leave my lips, I couldn’t manage it, something as commonplace as talking became difficult. A knot, the closest thing I could describe the feeling in my throat was a knot, and all I could receive was this blank stare from the Batista-like clone that stood in front of me.
Finally it happened, I couldn’t take it. In the past this would have been a small thing, a simple shrug and remedied within a minute, but not anymore. I didn’t realize what I had done until after the fact when I could reflect on it. In the next few moments there seemed to be a commotion, a cacophony of rage, the symphony of a man disturbed, and I was its composer and performer. I picked the cup up, and threw it on the floor, and my knee’s soon fell into a puddle of the dark brown, murky liquid. The tears came without warning, everything seemed to slow down, and the only thing I could hear was a deep bass bellowing in my chest, my heart pounding away as I accepted what was going on.
“Why… WHY YOU CRUEL BEAST?!”
No response, just a dull dimwitted stare, and that’s how I landed in this current predicament. The official police report comments on the clone having multiple lacerations on their face, all shallow, and non-life threatening, but it was the fact the head had been removed from the rest of the body that put me in my new home behind these bars. I was a damaged product in a flawed system, and so I would spend the rest of my days here, all because of that damned starbucks batista…
| The doctor had said that he could have anything he wanted as there wasn't much time left.
We met at a coffee shop plenty of years ago. I held my Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino and he had the same thing, but with soy milk. We sat down at the only table as complete strangers, trying to convince one another that our own drink was superior. We rambled for so long that, eventually, we were asked to leave as they were closing. That night was the beginning of a new life.
"Jake!" The barista yelled, trying to get my attention. I stopped daydreaming and took the two drinks concealed in hot drink cups, ordered this time with soy, and left the Starbucks stationed in the lobby of the hospital at which he was staying. As I walked towards the ICU, I feigned a smile for him before opening the door.
"Hey Jake," Ben started, "I see you have our drink." For the amount of pain he was in, he grinned convincingly. I handed him his drink and took a sip of my own. Immediately, I realized that it wasn't what I ordered. I looked over to Ben, who was still grinning and cherishing the refreshment. "It's so good. Thanks Jake, but I'm going to get some sleep now; I'm quite tired."
As the man fell into his slumber and his grin started to disappear, the heart monitor flat lined and marked his passing. I sat beside him, but was fixated at his drink. I eventually decided to take a sip, and realized it was also wrong. Perhaps the therapy had destroyed his taste buds, but at least he thought it was his favorite drink, the Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frap with soy.
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[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | "WHAT THE HELL IS THIS GARBAGE!?"
He threw the cup across the ring.
"Getting fired from the WWE isn't enough Batista wants to go ahead and make crappy coffee too!"
The crowd roared as The Rock swayed around the center.
"Cafe vanilla! DO I LOOK LIKE A HIPSTER TO YOU , BATISTA?"
Batista sadly lowers his head, staring at his apron. Then grabs the Mic himself
"First things first, I LEFT. Wasn't fired . Second, I may make disgusting java, but I can still kick your ass"
He drops microphone as they begin to grapple.
* Thank you for the gold, kind stranger. Highest rated comment so far too. I may have to do more prompts now, lol.
| The doctor had said that he could have anything he wanted as there wasn't much time left.
We met at a coffee shop plenty of years ago. I held my Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino and he had the same thing, but with soy milk. We sat down at the only table as complete strangers, trying to convince one another that our own drink was superior. We rambled for so long that, eventually, we were asked to leave as they were closing. That night was the beginning of a new life.
"Jake!" The barista yelled, trying to get my attention. I stopped daydreaming and took the two drinks concealed in hot drink cups, ordered this time with soy, and left the Starbucks stationed in the lobby of the hospital at which he was staying. As I walked towards the ICU, I feigned a smile for him before opening the door.
"Hey Jake," Ben started, "I see you have our drink." For the amount of pain he was in, he grinned convincingly. I handed him his drink and took a sip of my own. Immediately, I realized that it wasn't what I ordered. I looked over to Ben, who was still grinning and cherishing the refreshment. "It's so good. Thanks Jake, but I'm going to get some sleep now; I'm quite tired."
As the man fell into his slumber and his grin started to disappear, the heart monitor flat lined and marked his passing. I sat beside him, but was fixated at his drink. I eventually decided to take a sip, and realized it was also wrong. Perhaps the therapy had destroyed his taste buds, but at least he thought it was his favorite drink, the Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frap with soy.
|
|
[WP] A Starbucks Batista has given you Double Chocolaty Chip Crème Frappuccino with soy instead of a Caffè Vanilla Light Frappuccino with no fat milk. Make this as tragic, heart-wrenching and miserable as possible. | I went to starbucks this morning. I was on my phone and not really paying attention to the ba*r*ista who was serving me. What I got was not what I ordered. I turned around and started complaining loudly. That's when I realised that I was being served by WWE wrestler Ba*t*ista. His face got screwed up. He grabbed me and lifted me over his head and threw me down on the table and then poured the wrong coffee down my throat. | Tears came rushing to the brim of her eyes, as she tried hard to fight them back. Luckily, she was the only customer there this early, so no strangers could witness her meltdown. Rachel, the barista, looked at her with concern, "Are you okay? Did I mess up your order?" Meghan smiled meekly as she walked out the door, "No, no, it's fine. Just allergies." Once she got outside, she walked until she knew that she was out of sight, stopping at a patch of spruce trees. She stared for a minute at the drink in her hand. "One Double Chocolate Chip Frap with soy for me, and Meghan, what do you want?" Her mom would ask as they approached the Starbucks counter. It had been their Saturday ritual: Starbucks and shopping... Sometimes they would see a movie. Every Saturday for god knows how long. That is, until... Meghan's fenced-in tears released all at once, with an aching cry. "Mommmm," she wailed as she collapsed on the pine-needle-covered ground. She clutched the mistaken drink like it was a sacred relic, the last surviving piece of her beautiful mother. It had been a month since Meghan got the phone call from the hospital. A car crash. The roads were slick from rain. It was dark, and her car hit head-on into a tree. She didn't make it. The frappuccino's whipped cream had melted a bit and was slowly leaking onto Meghan's hands, but she made no effort to clean them. Tears streamed down her face, but again, she did not try to wipe them. She was tired of having to play strong, answer "I'm okay" when people asked how she was doing. She needed to break, and stay broken. "I can't do this without you," she whispered to the September sky. "I miss you." |
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