Drive Through Nancy Amarillo

Yesterday in the drive through a man pulled up to the speaker and asked if we had amarillo. Now, as far as I know, this is the name of a town in Texas, and doesn't have anything to do with anything to drink. He stared at the menu board confusedly as I tried to stifle myself and figure out what he could possibly want.
"Amaretto, he's trying to say amaretto," a barista near me choked.
I told him we didn't have amaretto, if that was what he was looking for, but we did have almond. He, looking more confused than ever, told me that he didn't even know what amaretto was anyway. He eventually decided on an almond cappuccino, which we made, which I'm sure he hated.

We have so many cell phone conversations go on in the drive through it's ridiculous. People don't seem to think you can hear them once they are done ordering, so they sit in the line at the drive through, next to the speaker, and proceed to answer their samba-ring and thank Judy for the wonderful dinner party last night. Or yell at their boyfriend. Or occasionally someone will be listening to something good, like a few weeks ago when a mild-mannered looking middle-aged woman was blasting "Girls just wanna have fun" while sitting calmly in her SUV. My faves, though, are always the people who are in line, then pull up to the menu board, squnch up their faces, yell into the speaker for us to hang on a second, then answer a ringing cell phone, and talk for a minute or so before they say, "can I call you back, britney/josh/nancy? I'm at Starbucks. Yeah, I'm just gonna get a carmel/mocha/strawberries and cream frapp. ok, bye/ciao/later."

You see, we in this line of work are caught between an espresso machine and a hard place, if you will- we are continually programmed, continually streamlined for maximum output in the minimum amount of time. And then we have people who come through the drive through for newspapers, brownies, 2 1/2 pounds of fine-ground espresso beans, wait nevermind I think I only want a pound, I don't know what I want, I'll tell you when I get to the window. Can you tell me what all of your pastries are? Hold on a second, because we've got a big order here. The idea of coming into the store is lost on these people, because we have a drive-through. It's so much more convenient. You don't even have to get your lard out of the car to come in and eat. Tina.

I was reading about what Howard Schultz had to say about the giant caffiene baby-monster he has given birth to. It was actually in the January issue of National Geographic, when the magazine decided to explore some of the effects of caffiene, and so naturally they interviewed our most holy father. He was talking about going to Italy, blah-blah, fascinated by the espresso shops there in the 80's, of the connection and conversation and third place they created, and how he thought there was a market for this sort of thing in America. Except for the fact that this is no longer what Starbucks is, and it's getting further away with every drive-through installed. 70% of our traffic comes careening around on 4 wheels (6 if you count the ridiculous amount of diesel duallys. These vehicles actually have to turn off their engines so that we can hear their orders), orders their, no no NO I said 2/3 decaf triple venti extra hot nonfat no foam latte, not 1/3. Honestly. Why you people can't remember my drink modified eight ways and announced like an auction manager is beyond me.

So anyway. Funny things do happen, though, which keeps us sane- like the guy who asked for Amarillo. Or the completely lit kids who pulled up and asked for a venti avacado and then dissolved into laughter. Or the lady in the drive through who asked if she could have her drink to go. Well, ok, ma'am, because you asked.....

The customer is always right.