rant on rant on rant

I've done it again, I've waited millions of seconds since my last post, and it's costing me dearly. I'm gonna cut to the chase on this one:
1. back home
2. the ineptitude that is Starbucks
3. the Tebow phenomenon.

1. Two weekends ago I snuck home for a buddy's engagement party. Without addressing the partying, and the wine chugging, and the blowjobs (the shot, it's the shot, relax people), let me first say it was weird. Good, but weird (yes it's possible to be both). I live in Gainesville. I FEEL like I live in Gainesville. From the start, the apartment has felt like home (nod to mom and dad), so going back home to Montreal and being in THAT home is a sensation I've never experienced. I was somewhere that most definitely was my home, but wasn't my current residence, a residence which as stated, was very homey. Anyway, I got over it all. It's not difficult when reverting back to the shisha-brew combo within two hours of landing. And then bed at 7am. And then wake up at 10. And then breakfast. And then lunch withe the future groom. Some more beer. And then dinner with the future groom and wine and desert and wine and the bar and shots and beers and shots, all with the future groom.... and then when the perfect shisha-brew nightcap was within reach, passing out on my kitchen floor with three compatriots. Before ranting onto the next rant, let me just say this. In a delirium, one of my Kitchen Floor Compatriots got up, went to relieve himself, and proceeded to crawl into bed with my parents. That's it, that's the summary of my weekend. When someone you grew up with crawls into bed with your parents, and they barely bat an eyelash, you know your work is complete.

Side note: I flipped on the TV when I sat down to do this and Twilight was on. I'm amazed at the quality of writing and at some point later tonight, I'll ponder how I didn't think the acting was even better. I can't get enough of hte stuttering, droopy eyelids, and throaty whispers of "Bella, you need to stay away from me," and, "but Edward, I just need..." *eyelid flutter* "... answers."

2. Ok... I go into Starbucks maybe 10 times a week. It's not even fair, they put one IN the library. Not the "library" they have in Chapters, but like, the school library. A place that probably sees five to ten thousand unique students walk through its front door every day. It's not even fair.
OMG, Bella is the first one to notice there's something weird about Edward. SOMEONE GET THIS GIRL A SCHOLARSHIP TO DETECTIVE SCHOOL.
Ok, back to the important stuff. Suffice to say I'm in Starbucks a lot and I get to observe them A LOT. I've noticed a few problems....
First, I get it, Starbucks is for hipsters. Granted, non-hipsters go there (nod to the West Island), but that fricken place was designed by someone from The Plateau (nod to my Montrealers). But even so, that doesn't give them the right to change the names of the sizes of drinks; Tall, Grande, Venti.
Now this guy http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20071217051431AAwi31y
has the best technical answer. And I'd like to echo what he's saying in a more irate way.
The sophistication.... I DON'T NEED IT. I only overpay for coffee cause there's nothing else around. (Omg, Edward just told Bella she's his own personal brand of Heroin. Somebody get me a fucking valium). And to borrow a term from Bill Simmons, the seemingly limited intellectual capital of those working the cash is taxed to the maximum when I ask for a medium coffee (I refuse to speak Italian).
Here's a sample conversation when I order a medium, including my, and their thoughts:
Me: Hi, I'd like a medium coffee, please.
Cashier: Uhhhhh *quizzical look* wuh... medium... Medium (dammit, 1... 2... 3... no that's not it.... A....B....shit, that's not it either.... small, medium, large, yes, YES. Ok so small is the smallest, so that's like our smallest too, cause they're both the smallest. So small is like.... TALL. YES. ok. no. he didn't want a small, wait. Tall? shit. Ok he said medium, so that's next. after small that is. Shit, I can't even THINK with proper punctuation. Ok so medium is next, so that's ourrrrr.....COME ON..... grande.yes.grande is medium..... Wait, grande means large. I know fucking Italian. So what's medium. Well Grande seems bigger than Tall. K, so he probably ordered a tall).
Great! Medium coffee, that'll be $2.25
Me: thanks *smile* (what, the, hell.....)
Invariably, I get served a small coffee.

omg omg omg omg, Bella just "met the parents" for the first time. They just cooked and used their kitchen for the first time JUST FOR HER. And they have a tree growing out of the floor. THIS IS THE BEST MOVIE EVER.

Second, the limited intellectual capital of the managers, or whoever invented the strategy for dealing with rush times. It obviously gets busy quite often, so they need a strategy operated by a well-oiled machine to deal with it, day in, day out. Right?

omgomgomg.
Bella: *looking up at his CD collection numbering in the tens? maybe twenties* oh my God, you have, like, so much music. LOLOLOLOLOLOL. Cue the .mp3 player and 2010. Thank you

Anyway, well-oiled machine. Right. So, typically they have anywhere from 2 to 8 people working at once. That's one problem. When it gets REALLY busy, they try to be cute and "streamline" the operation. You know, do something clever to make it go faster. So there's one person at the cash, great. One person making hot drinks (remember this, at a coffee shop, O-N-E person making hot drinks), one person putting whipped cream on cold drinks, and one cake-getter/surface wiper. Now, the best part. They have someone walk through the line that's constantly snaking out the front door asking people what they want. Once they get this "advanced order" they walkie-talkie that shit back to someone standing between the cashier and the hot-drink-maker who writes the order on the cup. On the surface, seems legit. NOT.
The person maybe radios in 5 drinks for every 1 the hot drink maker can make.
EDWARD'S ABOUT TO KISS BELLA.
.......

Anyway, this leads to the inevitable pile-up of unmade drinks at the hot-drink maker station, and the scrum of people crowding around that little fake window drink-outlet aperture; as if to say "this is like a fast food window but we're not fastfood, we serve ventis, bitch."
This never works since I think they take the worst candidate from every round of hiring and stick them on as the hot-drink maker. Anyway, fiasco every time I want my Tall Soy Skinny Caramel Macchiato with extra whip cream. Ok I don't order that shit (much), but I have to hear them call out every drink title every time they finish making one (like it's some sort of achievement proclamation to the world) along with miss-pronouncing all the foreign names that pass through.

HA! Edward is meeting Papa Bella. WHATCHU KNOW ABOUT TAKIN IT TO THE NEXT LEVEL.

Finally, last problem. But this is something I'm working on and I think I've made progress. If I pay, and my change comes in the form of coins AND bills, please don't make a little origami boat with the dollar bill and put the coins in it like little sailors. Coins go in the and first, then hand the bills to me. I don't want surfing nickels riding the George Board in my palm. I give you money, you give me coins, then bills. No monkey business.

3. The Tebow thing. I don't have the energy for this. Saving it for tomorrow.

-The Mtl Gator

P.S. I wish I could stay here and play-by-play the rest of Twilight. They just played Vampire Baseball, Edward saved a home run. Some bad vampies showed up. Bella's running away and is hurting her father to protect him from the bad vampies. You couldn't even make this shit up.