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@bratistics
first thing iâve uploaded in a whileâŚÂ đÂ
Things I wish I was doing: eating pussy
Things I am currently doing: not that
idk i really like being called cute but i also really like hearing that you masturbate to the thought of me idk
friday vibes
i walk into starbucks and order a pumpkin spice latte with 13 shots of espresso. i tell the barista that i intend to transcend humanity and become a god. i ask for no whip cream
you say this jokingly but i had a customer actually order a pumpkin spice latte with 9 shots of espresso (also no whip) and when i asked her to verify that she did indeed want 9 shots of espresso she looked me dead in the eyes and said âi have 5 kidsâ
I once had a woman come in and ordered an Americano with 19 shots of espresso. The drink took ages. It held up the line. I asked her why, and she shrugged and said âI just donât careâ. We still talk about that woman. We never saw her again.
new cryptid: exhausted woman at starbucks
Actual conversation I had at register: âHi, welcome to [Starbucks]! What can I get you, today?â
âHow much is it to fill a Venti with Espresso?â
âI- Iâm sorry?â
âA venti cup. How much to fill it with Espresso?â
âOh. uh. Well, itâd be I suppose⌠I only have a button for a Quad. I donât have special pricing for twenty ounces of espresso in a single⌠drink.â
âPrice is the furthest thing from my mind right now. How many âadd shotsâ is that?â
*deep breath of fear*Â âItâd be a quad with,â *clears throat*Â âuh, sixteen additional shots of espresso. But, maâam, I should tell you that the shots will start to get really bitter if they have to sit and wait for us to pull twenty of them-â
âTaste means nothing to me.â
At this point I am truly fearing for my very existence in the presence of what must clearly be an eldritch being.
âOh. Well, okay.â I put on my absolute best customer service smile to hide my terror and accept that I must face this dragon, fae, or demon with dignity. âWe can certainly get that for you! The price will be _____.â
She begins to pay, I shit thee not, with golden dollar coins. We are a block from Wall Street, and this eldritch demi-being is paying for an unholy elixer with golden coins. My life will end soon, I am sure of it.
âDo you still have the âAdd Energyâ packets?â
My heart began to race at this request. âYes maâam.â
âHow many can I add?â
Futile though it is, at least I know the rote response to this. âFor health reasons, we wonât add more than one per drink and we cannot sell the packets individually.â
âOne then.â
I alter the order and tell her the new price. She pays, dumps the change and five golden dollars into the tip box. I write the order on the venti cup and pass it silently to the girl working the hot beverage station. Normally we called and pass, but this was ⌠not something to be spoken aloud.
My fellow takes the cup, not thinking anything of the minor break with protocol, until she sees the order. She stares at me. âNo.â
The woman, which I call her for no other greater insight into her terrifying being is within my grasp, simply stands on the other side and says, calmly but with a commanding tone I expect of Admirals in bad movies, âYes.â
My fellow barista pales before her task. But we are dutiful, we are true to our task, great though it may be. She sets about clearing the two brand new Matrenaâs of all distraction, and sets two tall cups in the ready position. The energy packet is emptied into the venti cup, and the shots begin pouring.Â
The barista was damn near shaking. This womanâs gaze felt like the fires of the sun. Finally, the shots are pulled, the cup is filled, and the hand off takes place.
Our visiting Incomprehensible takes it to our milk bar and adds a dollop of cream. Satisfied, she proceeds to down what must have been half the damn cup.
Then she smiled at us, like a benediction and I was honestly filled with joy. And horror. She left, and we knew nothing more of her after that.
When I talk with other former employees, we quickly begin talking about âThe Companyâ as if weâd never l, perhaps knowing that part of our soul still powers that awesome and terrible corporate machine. And when I share this stroy, other Baristas at first act shocked but quickly settle and comes the chorus,Â
âYeah, I had one like that.â
Okay, Starbucks lore is my new favorite genre of literature. Please collect all these and more into a book.
@peach-orange-juice
âŚI thought Venti Espresso Cryptid was a fever dream my manager had. Good lord.
i think if a girl sat in front of me and rubbed her pussy in front of me iâd explode