Alright, this is the last time I write about Starbucks for a while. It’s getting a little crazy around here lately.
But this article about how it’s suddenly hip to give fake names for your drink order at Starbucks is perfectly timed. The article begins:
“In Roseville alone, there are teenage girls named Bartholomew, a businessman who calls himself Ben Affleck and a Kaiser doctor who goes by Frankenstein. At least those are the monikers they tag on themselves when asked for a call-out name on a food or beverage order.”
I don’t care so much about the “it’s cool to say your name’s Chewbacca” part of the story, which is actually kind of sad. I mean, do people really need to such measures to give their life meaning? What I liked about the article is what I pictured my own fake-Starbucks-name would be:
ORGANIC MILK.
Wouldn’t that confuse them? After running around asking one another if they had organic milk, wouldn’t it be joyous to set them afire again with shouts of “Organic Milk! I’ve got an organic latté for Organic Milk!” in the store? It would cause chaos!
No, seriously, Starbucks. Just carry effing organic milk already. It’s not such a big deal.
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