An Irish Punk Band + 6 Guys =

*Originally Posted April, 2007"

A Flogging Molly concert of course! That's right this the tale of the great Flogging Molly trip as told by... well, me. So what should you do now? Well, if I were you I'd punch somebody smaller then you, grab a copy of The Departed, chug a glass of cranberry juice... and read, "An Irish Punk Band + 6 guys ="! So let get to it then!

It all started on a Thursday afternoon... I had just gotten off of my job at Starbucks, I jumped in my car and headed to the meeting spot we had designated at an earlier time. The spot happened to be the parking lot of the church my brother is custodian of. He wasn't quite done with his work by the time I pulled into the parking lot, so I waited. It's here the story truly begins! As I waited the others started to arrive... from the Gehling boys and Josh Langer, to Jay Prock and at last my brother. We were now ready to embark on the journey. We packed all of our things in the back of Jay's SUV, and piled in. We pulled out of the parking lot, and at long last we were under way to Tulsa for the Flogging Molly concert! The trip there was fun, but somewhat uneventful...*so I'm going to skip to where we arrive in Tulsa* At last we arrived in Tulsa. The plan had been to eat at Kilkenny's Irish Pub before the show, so we did... and it was good. That is all. We left Kilkenny's full of... food, and drink... and it was now time to arrive at the concert.

We arrived at the concert with plenty of time to spare. We found a good parking space, got out of the vehicle, and walked towards the pavilion. It was here we found out that maybe we didn't belong at this concert. As we walked by, we noticed hundreds and hundreds of people dressed in gothic green and black clothing. Many of which looked high, drunk or just plain ugly from being in a countless number of fights. Now there would be nothing wrong with the above statement, if we too were... dressed in gothic green and black clothing, were high, drunk, or had been in a fight. But the problem was hadn't been in, or had on any of the above... so it was awkward. As such, as we walked to the end of the waiting line we noticed dozens of faces looking at us with the, "what the h*ll are they doing here?" look. (and of course the "*" in the previous sentence was an "i") But we didn't sway from the straight and narrow... or umm, line... and held our own.

Finally they let us in. The first of three opening bands appeared on stage... the name of which was, "The Reverend Peyton's Big Damn Band". The moment they started to play we knew two things, One: It was going to be a long night if all the opening bands sucked this bad, and Two: We were not going to be able to hear by the end of the night. Something else we noticed was once the music started everyone seemed to come together, and not care what you looked like, or what you were wearing. Well, it was indeed a long wait for Flogging Molly. With the opening bands ranging from crap, to pretty ok; we waited not so patiently for Flogging Molly to come to the stage. Finally they did. It was great! Not only was the music good, but the people who were there were entertaining too. You see, this Irish guy in front of us (who was inebriated) would keep turning around and ask, "Are you Irish?" to which you answer, "yes." To which he would reply, "God bless you!" then give you a hug... This happened quite a few times until my good friend Josh Langer turned the tables on him.We saw him coming back for another round of "Are you Irish?" when Josh grabbed him and said, "Are you Irish?" to which he replied, "Yep, don't let the black hair fool ya"... Classic!

Finally the concert ended and we headed to our lodging for the evening. We woke up the next morning only to discover we still couldn't hear... oh, and we were hungry. We packed up all our stuff and looked for a place to eat. We came upon a doughnut shop and decided to get some... doughnuts. We walked inside only to hear the old lady running it say, "Oh, Shit" about us coming in. As we tried to order she would bark orders and make demands that were not hers to make. At one point even grabbing the hand of one of the Gehling boys as she gave him his change. Of course it wouldn't be a complete trip unless I came up with a smart ass comment for her. So, as my brother received a text message from his girlfriend the old lady said briskly, "What's that noise?! Is that a cell phone?!" To which I replied, " Ya it is, I mean that's okay right? I mean I didn't see a "No Cell Phones Allowed" sign as we came in!" She had no response. I had won... that round. We left the "doughnut shop of doom" and headed home. The trip back was fun, but somewhat uneventful...*So, I'm going to skip to OKC*... finally we arrived back in good ol' OKC... the end.

The Galaxy Dollars Soccer Team... The First Game

*Originally Posted April, 2007*

Hello again everyone, and welcome to the, "Galaxy Dollars Soccer Team" blog dealio! Now before we move on, I will quickly recap...The peoples of Galaxy Dollars Coffee decided to start a soccer team. We signed up in a beginners league, that for all we knew was comprised of little kids. We began our soccer training only to find out we stank the joint up... bad. We practiced more only to find that one of our players was going bald...(not sure what that has to do with the story, but it's true.) and that we liked to drink water as much as chai... So now, we will turn another page in the story that's captivating the world---umm... a nation---... a city---hmm... a store? Ahh! The story that's captivating... various friends and strangers! So now we dive in to..."The Galaxy Dollars Soccer Team... The First Game"

We had practiced, we had swat... sweated, whatever. We had even gotten a little bit better. But now was the moment of truth... the first game was here! All of us showed up to the arena ridiculously early to put on their "gear" (i.e. shin-guards, soccer shoes etc.). As for me, I got there early as well, and it turns out it was a good thing too... for as I noticed everyone putting on their "gear", I also noticed that I didn't have "gear" to put on... In fact I looked like a soccer reject. Fortunately for me there was a "soccer pro shop" in which I could buy the things I needed in which to not die on the field. I walked in the door of the pro shop and just stood there... like... well, ...a standing guy. Now, I'd like to tell you that I was soaking up all that soccer "karma" of awesome soccer players past and forgotten, but that would be a lie, so I won't. No the sad truth was, I was standing there in the doorway of the pro shop and two things were on my mind... One: "Should I get the red or the blue shin guards?" and Two: These shorts don't have pockets... so, where is my wallet?" Shortly there after I looked down and thought to myself "blue is more manly-er, I'll go with blue."...and remembered that I had stuck my wallet between my shorts and underpants at the waist just for such an occasion... so all was well.

I bought all the gear I needed, put it on, and paced back and forth in front of my teammates to pretend I was ready. The time was finally here... they called us to the field. Once we got there we quickly realized a differences in teams. For one, they weren't kids... for two, they had jerseys... we had white t-shirts. (But at least that was due to the fact that ours just hadn't come in yet...) For three, they were actually passing the ball to one another... we were not. We were like... hey, it's coming to you! We'd kick it, and it would go the opposite way... and we were like, umm... I did that on purpose. It was a fake out, great for those moments you want to... umm, fake out your opponent... and your teammate.

The game started. As the game progressed we realized more differences between the teams... like their players... they actually knew where to be on the field. As for us, we were like a fluttering butterfly floating all over the field, because we didn't know what the crap we were doing... another thing we noticed was when they would shoot, for one we dove out of the way, but for two their shots were good, hard hit, and... well, really good. Ours? Ya, maybe would trickle an inch or two on the ground while a snail scurried out of the way. After the massacre was over we realized one more thing... I forgot to wear deodorant! j/k... we realized that one player on their team single handedly beat the ever living doughnuts out of us (that is if doughnuts were inside of us, and somehow a living entity). His name I will remember for at least days to come... Renaldo. A short stocky bald man of soccer awesomeness is what he was. Scoring 10 of their 14 points... one might say he was a bit like the Michael Jordan of soccer... that, or we were like the Toronto Raptors of soccer (to all those who don't know, they suck... bad.). No one could tell for sure... but what we could tell for sure was this was going to be a long season...

Check back next time to see if the Galaxy Dollars Soccer Team wins a game, the balding player regains his hair, and if Ben really didn't wear deodorant to the game... these answers and more... next time on, "The Galaxy Dollars Soccer Team" blog dealio!

The Valentine's Day Stereotype Countdown Blog

*Editor's Note*

Originally Posted in February, 2007 this blog of stereotypes has it's ups and downs. But overall I believe that it shines through as an enduring piece of random literature that lifts the spirit, and umm... soothes the soul?

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Well hello to everyone out there reading this! It would seem that it's that time of the year again... Valentine's Day. Yes Valentine's Day, the day more people get: teddy bears, heart shaped candy, and laid then any other day of the year (well, it's true). If you're single you'd almost think that this festive holiday of love comes more then once a year, but it doesn't. Now I know nobody reading this is single, and/or in need of something to take your mind off/ cheer you up of the fact that it is Valentine's Day... But I thought that I might as well do something for the precious few that will feel lonely, unloved, and suicidal. That's why I have written "The Valentine's Day Stereotype Countdown Blog", what it is... is an extravaganza of stereotypes of today's society (the top 10 to be exact... in no order), and the top 5 things they could do this Valentine's Day if they're single... so, read on... and maybe, just maybe this will take your mind off this festive holiday of love... or put you in the mood for tacos... one of the two.

If you're...____ you could...

Emo:

1. Converse with your friends about how the world is a cold and horrible place to live, then in the next minute converse about how you see the beauty in everything.

2. Watch one of those twisted independent films where the person falls in love, falls out of love, her ex dies, she figures out that she really did love him but it's too late... So she marries the first dip-stick to come along with a decent physique, only to find out he's abusive, then she ends up killing him and lives un-happily ever after in prison... the end.

3. Shut yourself in your room and write that new hit song, "I Must Be Alone in My Principles, and That's Why I'm Single"... because song titles really are getting this long and ridiculous.

4. Get some black hair dye, mascara, and a hair straightener, so you can look like a women without having one.

5. Slit your wrist. (don't really)

Musical Theatre/ Drama:

1. Everywhere you go just tap dance and sing... you know, like any other normal day in the life of an musical theatre major...

2. Be in a show... after all some of us are just to busy for love.

3. Just walk around all day humming the tune... "My Funny Valentine" and hope that someone catches your subtle hint at wanting a companion on this festive holiday of love.

4. Go to a show with your other single friends and criticize the crap out of it... because A: You're single, and B: You're not in it.

5. Drink, pass out, and wake up in some box by a dumpster next to a guy with a mo-hawk that does an impression of you, doing him, doing you, doing him... on ten. Isn't that weird? Ya, I thought so.

Nerd:

1. Have a Star Wars watching marathon with all your friends... because yes, all of your friends are single.

2. Play that new Mega Multi Player Online video game that you can supposedly play with your toes!

3. Go to the local comic book shop and buy the newest issue of "Supergirl", because that's the closest you're actually going to get to an attractive girl.

4. Create a "virtual girlfriend" computer program.

5. Hire a... well, you know what... No, not that... a personal trainer.

Prep:

1. Go and buy some new clothes... because spending money somehow eases the pain of being single.

2. Talk on the phone with your best single friend for hours rambling on about how, "you can't believe that piece of slime dumped you a week before Valentine's Day for that other bimbo"

3. Go to a movie, in a crowded mall, with your crowd of friends... wearing your tight Abercrombie & Fitch pants (guys and girls) and hope that someone you know will spot you on the "social scene" and not think you're a total loser.

4. Go to a club alone?!... and hope you can sweet talk one of the fellow preppies into being your "fix" for this festive holiday of love.

5. Do the unthinkable... call a "1-900" number.

Skater:

1. Skate on a park bench... because to you Valentine's Day is just another day.

2. Sit around a table and talk to your fellow "dudes" about what's up in the world... besides Valentine's Day.

3. Spend the whole day searching for that "perfect" jump, and once you find it spend the rest of the day trying to land it in front of cute girls that walk by.

4. Stay at home and watch, "Grind", but then have to clean your room... because you're 25, still live at home with your parents, and life sucks!

5. Take your skateboard, and face-plant it into every bozo that you think looks at you funny... because it's Valentine's Day, you're single, and you're not taking crap from anyone!

Hick:

1. Sit in your 12 in 1 Lazy-Boy like you usually do when it's not Valentine's Day, and never have to move to: eat, sleep, go to the bathroom, watch TV, get a beer, change the channel, work (because you don't a job), talk on the tely-phone, pick your nose, wear plaid shirts, take a "bath", check facebook (if you're a rich hick and have a laptop computer with wi-fi).

2. Talk to your "friends" about what's going on in the world... besides Valentine's Day, and politics, and sports, and world peace, and how stuff works... and basically anything that requires brain activity.

3. Hold up a sign by the side of the road that reads, "Wood u bee mi Velent-nine?!" with your smilin' buck teeth just... umm...*shinning* away.

4. Just walk up to a girl and carry her off. (what? It worked in "Seven Brides for Seven Brothers")

5. On Valentine's Day carry around an axe, and take off the head of the first person that says, "Look, it's a single hick with an axe!"

Goth:

1. Go to your favorite hang out spot... Hot Topic.

2. Go to your "Shrink" and talk about how you want to "beat the man", and "stick it to society"... then go to Starbucks and order your frappuccino.

3. Hang out with your fellow single, pale skinned, weird colored haired friends, and watch something like "Friday the 13th"... because if you watch any of that mushy love crap you're just going to kill someone.

4. Kill someone. (Don't do this one)

5. Ask a prep out on a date?!?! (I suppose you shouldn't actually do this one either)

Ghetto:

1. Just chill at your "pad".

2. Tape some broken flowers together and try to give them to your ex-girlfriend. Saying that for the sake for this "festive holiday of love" you should get back together.

3. When your ex turns you down, take those same taped flowers and try to give them to random women that you meet... saying, "Come on baby, I taped these just for you!"

4. Steal a nice car, parade around for the rest of the day in your "pimp-mobile", trying to pick up chicks in your illegitimate ride.

5. Bust a cap in anyone that looks that you weird... because it's Valentine's Day, your single, and that just ain't right. (restrain yourself from doing this one too)

Normal:

1. Watch a DVD... at home... by yourself.

2. Sit around with your friends and talk about... what girls/guys you wish you were going out with, and politics, and sports, and world peace, and how stuff works... and basically anything that requires brain activity.

3. Pretend to lose a contact in front of "Hooter's" and see who comes out to help you look.

4. Get some Valentine's Day cards, write your phone number on them, and stick them inside every girl you knows mailbox... and wait to see who calls you back first.

5. Order a "Mail-order Bride"

Religious Crowd:

1. Praise the lord that you're still single at age 28...

2. Just hang around with all your other saved friends that are also waiting for "Mr. Right", and hope that he magically comes to sweep you off your feet... that is if he is: Well dressed, brings flowers, wears the right kind of cologne, isn't too tall or too short, is exactly two years and seven months older then you, and of course he has to be active in the church... if he doesn't meet all of these qualifications, he's already struck out.

3. Walk up to the hottest girl in church and say, (in an Arnold Schwarzenegger voice) "Thus say-ith the Lord, you are going to marry mee, and we will have several children's... and somehow be related to the Kennedy's... Alright, I'm going to go talk to Sean for a second and give you some time to let this sink in, I'll be back."

4. Show up at the annual "Christian's Only! Valentine's Day Speed Dating Extravaganza".

5. Go out with an "unsaved" person!

Unfortunately "Pirate" was currently #11 on the top social stereotypes, so maybe next year...Well that's it for this year's Valentine's Day blog dealio...hopefully it got your mind off of the "festive holiday of love" or put you in the mood for tacos...

The Life and Times of a Ben at the Supermarket

*Originally Posted October, 2006*

Well hello again everyone! Now before I get started I wanted to make something clear that has to do with the title. Just in case the part that says, "a Ben" threw you off. That "a Ben" that it's talking about... ya, that's me... I just thought I'd clear that up in case you thought I was going to rattle off some random story about another Ben that you don't even know... Ok, glad we got that out of the way. So, let us begin our trip to the supermarket!

So there I was... I entered the Albertson's parking lot, found a decent parking space and headed inside to do my monthly grocery shopping. I walked through the front door, looked to my right and grabbed the closest cart available. I looked down at my cart and noticed something was missing... my list! I knew I didn't forget it so I frantically patted myself down, scrambling to find the piece of precious parchment. A couple of people walked by while I was doing this and gave some precarious looks, you know the, "I don't think it's appropriate to do something like that in public" looks. So I did what most any man in my position would have done.

As I patted myself, I started saying, "Where's my list?! I know that thing's around here somewhere..."

The passing peoples seemed to find the frantic babbling sufficient to get their dirty minds out of the gutter, so I was happy. Finally I found it! I was ready to shop!

So I began, with list in hand, and... an empty cart. I made my way past the fresh produce area first, to which I passed a meat stand stating, "Buy one, get one free!". This got my attention, so I stopped and perused the merchandise. While I pondering whether to get said deluxe meat or not, an Albertson's worker walked up, and started stocking the display I was looking at. After throwing a couple more packages on the display she stops and looks at me.

In a rather passionate but kind tone, the middle aged African American women states, "Honey, you should get some! They're buy one, get one!"

To which I responded the only way I could after that statement, "Well then, I'll take two!"...and I did.

Next I was off to the aisles... the aisle part of the shopping usually goes well. I was buying food, I was looking for the super-savers... things were pretty much "same-o, same-o"... that was until I reached the coffee aisle... Now I don't know why, but there is a gravitational pull when I pass by the Starbucks section of the coffee aisle. It's a tug, if you will, to assist the poor helpless individual looking so aimlessly at the Starbucks coffee, that they are almost overwhelmed by the sheer variety of it all. Now this "tug" usually gives way because there's is no one looking at the coffee... but, this time there was someone standing there in front of the Starbucks coffee display, and he had his hand on his chin... just waiting for some knowledgeable individual (such as myself) to help him with his coffee brewing needs/wants! I tried to keep walking... but I just couldn't, and the gravitational pull of "Legendary Service" reeled me in.

I walked up beside the man and proudly stated, "Hello sir, I happen to work for Starbucks and I am currently training to be a Coffee Master, is there any questions I could answer for you?".

The man turned around, and to my surprise stated, "Well, actually I'm looking for a good breakfast coffee... what would you recommend?"

I quickly went off on a rant about what coffees he may enjoy. When the dust settled he choose Breakfast Blend... a real shocker I know. He ended the conversation with, "Well, thanks for stopping by."...So I guess that's good.

Well that about does it for my trip to the supermarket... Oh, I lied... one last thing before I end this. I also met the OETA movie guy! ...You know, the one that's from the public station, he rambles on in the dead of night about classic movies, and is always holding a bucket of popcorn? No? you don't know him? *ahem* Well anyway... it was no big deal, really. Ok... more later.

The Ben, The Computer, and The Virus(s)

*Originally Posted August, 2006*

To set the stage for this story...As some of you may or may not know, as of last week I had not been online for like... 14 days, 9 hours, 22 minutes, and 7 seconds... or something close to that (not that I know exactly or anything). This was due to the breaking down of my computer... This, my friends, and not-so-cool people is the story of that account.

It all started one normal type of day... I was doing the normal type of stuff you do with a computer, you know: Surf the web, fiddle with programs, cook a pizza... you know the "norm". Little did I know a digital monster of sorts was lurking in the shadows... well... in my computer. Whatever. My computer had seemed to running a tad bit slow for the last couple of days, so I decided to check it for spyware and virus'... This is when things started going down hill. I ran my Microsoft Anti-Spyware program. It found a few items lurking about, but nothing of extreme crap. I decided to inquire further, so I ran a cheap (and by cheap I mean free) Yahoo Anti-Spyware program. It found several problems, one of which is known as a "root kit". This happened to be the "Sony root kit"... A nasty clocked spyware item that sends information back to its source (in this case Sony). It found the root kit, as well as a couple of other spyware items that it could not remove. Thus, it asked for my supreme help in deleting such hazards. I then went to the only website a good tech person should go to... Google.

I searched how to remove the "Sony root kit", found a site to show me how, then followed the steps to the "T". But somehow, somewhere, something went wrong. The system asked me to reboot my computer to save the changes I had made. I did so. However, when I tried to log back on, it froze up... So I tried my roommate's name... it worked. I made it though the deletion process then had to again restart the system... I thought that it would be fine, I mean I was now done with the deletion process, right? Wrong. Well, right, but no... it didn't work. Instead of the world going back to normal, it froze up on my roommate's log in... so I tried my brother's... it worked, but I was now leery of turning off my computer for fear that I would not be able to log back on (since I had now exhausted all of the log-in names). I left my computer on and tried to make sure it was fine... but I knew it was not. Finally it happened... It froze. I restarted it, but now it wouldn't even load a log-on screen. I tried as hard as I could to fix it using all of my computer nerd power, but it was useless... I had failed.

I did the unthinkable (for me), I let my roommate bring it to a corporate tech in hopes of getting it up and working again... He kept it for the better part of a week. His conclusion? He couldn't fix it. Me, I was bummed... and thought he sucked. There was now only one hope for my computer... The Travis! (AKA, The Supreme Tech Dude) If he couldn't fix it, it was hopeless and I miles-well just call it a big piece of useless metal and plastic crap, in a bigger metal and plastic case of crap. I took it to him. He worked on it... and worked on it... and worked on it some more. It looked grim, he told me he had never seen anything like it before... yep, I had jack it up pretty good. Finally... he fixed it! I was relieved... he told me what had happened was that when I deleted a certain file, it deleted another one with it (without me knowing)... an important one... the boot up one. Yep, important, I concur with him. He said, that, combined with a few dozen virus' was the source of my problem(s)... so ya, I learned my lesson... what did I learn you may be asking? Well, I learned never to put Twinkies on my pizza! You know, the one that I was cooking on my computer earlier... Other then that, I'm not quite sure what I learned...j/k

YTJ7FWN2A8SG

The Picture People Story

*Editor's Note*

This entertaining bit of nonsense was originally posted in July, 2006, hot on the heels of the, "Starbucks ...The Saga Ends" post. I wanted to vent my frustration about them pressing the issue, and since I couldn't write about Starbucks I did (in my mind) the next best thing... I wrote about my second job. This was what came about.
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Prelude to Story:

I warn all who reads this now, the story below is not for the faint of heart, the weak of stomach, or the people who like plush toys a lot. So, ya... consider yourself warned. But if you don't have a problem with any of those things I mentioned you're probably good to go. So... proceed.

Disclaimer:

In light of recent events... just to let everyone know, (so there is no miscommunication) The following story is completely made up. In other words it's not true, it's a lie, a falsity, farce, phony, fabricated, and any other words you can think that mean that type of thing. In other other words please do not come after me with a stick and beat me up for mentioning what I mention, ok?... ok. So as you read this I ask you, no... I urge you to remember... The story you about to read about is fake, that means not real... alright, if you've got that you're good to go...

The Story:

I have been working for the Picture People for well over a year now, and I've found that pretty much everyone who works there likes their job (i.e. taking pictures, bosses, etc...). But when it comes to the company it self... well... it sucks. We get no raises, no time and a half on holidays, no respect from our high, high ups, etc, etc... So my co-workers and I have derived a plan to stop this insanity, and show the head honchos of this company that the little people of this company are more then just... well, little people. The plan we derived consists mostly of duct tape and Corn Pops, as not to damage the structural integrity of the building...

We would show up early in the morning and do stuff... really "witty" stuff. Like putting the props in vicarious positions, maybe tape a plush toy to the wall and stick a ransom note up its nose (if you can do that), and instead of all the tills having a receipt on them stating how much money is inside (like they usually do), they'd have a piece of parchment placed on them saying, "gone"...of course when the head honchos walked in to the store we'd blame it on a poo flinging monkey. And the head honchos would believe us too, because deep inside we all believe that monkeys really do fling poo... Immediately the head honchos would put a surveillance on all stores that sold bananas, (that's bananas, B-A-N-A-N-A-S) so that if there were a spike in banana sales they would know where to catch their hairy little thief. But of course they'd get there and it would be some washed up soap-opera star that we decided to pin it on, and all we'd have to do is give him a $20 bill and tell him to go buy as many bananas as he could with it, because we all know that if we saw a washed up soap-opera star buying $20 worth the bananas we'd be a bit suspicious... but that's a story for a different time. I mean if you want to be real honest we'd probably eventually get caught. And you know that the head honchos would pull one of those, "We knew it was you guys the whole time, but we just wanted to see if you guys were going to let a poor innocent poo flinging monkey take the rap for you" In which we'd rip off one of the pieces of parchment (just for the crap of it), and run away with the washed up soap-opera star, because he has $20 worth the bananas and we know we're going to need to eat something. And of course as we're eating them we could sing, "This crap's bananas, B-A-N-A-N-A-S"... because that's what this story's really about.

Do I Smell Something Burning?

*Originally Posted March, 2006*

A pleasant hello to everyone who reads this! And the good ol' double duce to everyone who doesn't... Any-hoo, it would seem like it's been a while since I posted on here. But there are reasons, good reasons... The biggest of which is my computer. What the crap is he talking about you might be saying... well, my computer blew up! no joke.

While watching my Seinfeld Season 4 DVD (shameless plug) I heard a BOOM! I paused the DVD and walked over to my computer. I tried to turn it back on... nothing. What had happened was the power supply to the computer decided it had lived long enough, and wanted to kick the bucket... if power supplies can kick the bucket. The BOOM was it dying. That was followed by some smoke, and a burning smell... not good. So my computer lay there, lifeless... I almost shed a tear, but then realized that this was going to cost money to fix... so I started to ball! I quickly unscrewed the side and took a look inside... it was dead alright. Me being a tech savvy guy, tracked it down to being one of two things... One: Just the power supply had fried, and I needed a new one, or Two: The power supply, and the motherboard were both fried, and my computer was a big paper weight. Obviously I was routing for number one!

So today I went to Comp USA and bought a new power supply, and installed it. I pushed the button... nothing. I looked at the back..."Hmm...what's this? A new power switch on the back? Let me switch it on" so I did, and my computer came to life! It was beautiful, really. Well, I just wanted to update and get back in the swing of things, so check back for more later.

Jerks and Headaches...Their Common Thread

*Originally Posted February, 2006*

Hello to all! Well, it would seem at long last the sun has graced us with its presence... and I for one thank it for doing so. (I just thought I'd throw that in here). I'm pretty sure you don't care, but whatever, there it is... So I know you're all wondering what do jerks and headaches have in common? And don't worry, I'm not going to leave you hanging... I mean come on, it's me. Sadly, I am the common thread that pieces these things together. I don't know if it's because of the snow, or if people lately just wake up and think, "Gee, I think I'll be a huge jerk-face today!" But whatever the case is, they have been jerks.

Aright so... Today I needed some stuff from the store, and I needed to put my checks in the bank. So I went to the Piggly Wiggly (a local supermarket that's known for bring run down), in the name of convenience... All because it's across the street from my bank. Let me tell you this now... never shop there! For one: Everything is WAY over priced! I mean if you like throwing your money in a trash bag, by all means shop there! But if you don't...run, run vary far away from the Piggly Wiggly... For two: When I get to the check out, the cashier is a "bundle of joy"...which is kinda funny because her name was actually "Joy". lol...

Anyways, I was trying to buy some frozen entree type deals that were on sale for 88 cents each... But when they rung up I saw that they were ringing up at $1.76.

So I politely tell Joy, "Excuse me miss, these (pointing to my frozen entrees) were on sale for 88 cents."

Joy quickly states, "No, that's only on the dinners! ...And you didn't get the dinners!"

Well, there happened to be a huge poster in the window next to us that clearly stated the sale price right on it... So I proceed to tell her, "No, ma'am it says these (once again pointing to my entrees) are on sale, see." ...and I pointed to the sign in the window.

She goes crazy! "I'm telling you sir! These are NOT the ones on sale!"

A manager quickly comes over, and after some random crap from Joy... looks at the poster in the window and states, "Joy, I believe the customer is right."

To which she goes even more crazy, "Why the hell did you put me on register anyway! Huh?!"

He exasperatingly replied, "You know, I'm not sure."

He quickly apologized for her behavior (even though she was still standing right there), and asked if I was satisfied with the outcome.

I thought about saying, "only if you fire her"...But I didn't. I said, "yes"

I then went on my marry way... But let me tell you, that's the last time I go there! Sheesh!

That brings us to later in the day... I'm on my way to work (and I might throw in that I'm on pace to be early), and I'm mosey-ing down the Broadway Extension (a local highway in Oklahoma City) when things come to a complete halt! I mean we're not even close to the construction that's going on up ahead, so I don't why the heck these morons aren't moving... Minutes, and minutes pass by, and we barely move! So I get off at the first exit I come to, in hopes that I can still get to work on time. Oh, but that's just too much to ask I guess... Not only did I hit almost every red light, but I think I got stuck behind every crap face in the metro area!

So I finally get to work... late! (which I'm never late, so it ticked me off a bit) So the night goes on...Things finally get better, my mood improves and so on and so forth. Then it happens... I bend down to pick up some loose change on the floor, and when I get up I hit my head really hard on the corner of the register! I thought I was fine, and started to walk it off... Then I got really light headed... I leaned against the counter, then one of my co-workers got me a chair to sit on... After a while I was good again... Well, with the exception of two things... One, I had a giant headache. and two, I couldn't remember certain things. I, for one, thought I was AdamSandler... So that was my first idea that something might be wrong... For two, I started answering the drive-thru, "Hi welcome to.... umm ... wherever you are". So then I was almost certain something was wrong...Then I couldn't remember the name of the regular that had just come in... Which was weird because I just called her by her name not even 5 minutes ago. Then the roof started caving in, and Ziggy Stardust came through singing "Suffragette City"! And... ok, ok, just kidding on that last part. Finally, my co-workers came to the conclusion that I had gotten a case of selected amnesia...You know though... I still can't think of that ladies name... It's driving me nuts! Well, whatever...

Starbucks, the Untold Stories... Part 4

*Editor's Note*

In January, 2006 the last "Starbucks, the Untold Stories" blog was posted. Even though I never told anyone what location I worked at, or the real names of any of my co-workers. I was sat down by my boss, who had a copy of all my blogs (yes, Mr. FOCUS BEN RICHARDSON face), and was told, quote, "If I wanted to continue to be employed by Starbucks I would delete the blogs immediately and post no further blogs of this nature". I was also told that my site would be watched by corporate for the next month. Just to make sure I was complying... Just a little sketchy huh? Oh the price we pay for art.
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Well hello again. After the long and painful wait…of waiting. A new Starbucks blog dealio has been created for you, the public!…or private…(I guess that would depend on where you are sitting and/or standing when you read this…) *Ahem*…Anyways, this time around it’s all about the stories…of the customers…and the co-workers… and co-workers that happen to be in the stories with the customers. Like in the first three parts of this blog saga, be prepared to read about stuff…crazy stuff. Stuff that you thought only happened at IHOP at 2am in the morning… (you hear *gasps* in the background) And the craziest part is…they’re all true...I promise. So… sit back, take off your shoes (if you’re wearing shoes)… and be prepared to chuckle… to yourself…moderately. As before the disclaimer below is there to protect the identities of the dumb, dimwitted, and the down right stupid…Not to mention the smart, nice, and really, really good looking cool people… so read it. And without further ado I present to you, “Starbucks, the untold stories…Part 4”

DISCLAIMER

The following customers and co-workers identities in the following stories below have been changed to pretty much keep Ben from getting fired, and to keep from hurting the feelings of his fellow co-workers should they find this material offense, and know it’s about them… But if that’s not good enough for you…The following names below have been changed to protect the people we loosely call customers, and the people I call co-worker, friend, and bip. (Bip: A French word meaning roughly good…j/k)

Man of Action?

Now I haven’t quite figured out why, but I have found that people persist on being in a big fat hurry where ever they’re going… It doesn’t matter if they’re on their way to work, on their way to school, on their way to prison…they’re in a hurry, and they want their drink yesterday! Oh, and they’ll make you aware of that fact too, “ Hey buddy! I’m on my way to work, could you speed it up a bit?! I’m running late!” Well, for one: two words. leave sooner… then you won’t be late. Second: umm…well, no… I can’t go faster. So…just sit in your car and… wait… patiently… because crapping at me will do you no good. Another one of my pet-peeves are the people that can’t wait two seconds for you to take their money…no, they have to put it on the little ledge thingy and roll up their window before you can talk to them, because you know all Starbucks employees have a certain decease that if you talk to them for two seconds or more your face will fall off, or you’ll catch “The Ugly”… Now, when customers try to pull such a deed on me I do not allow it to go on. I simply just look at the customer, then I look at the bill (like it has a decease) and wait for the customer to roll that BMW window down and talk to me. Usually I get some dirty looks but it works…But sometimes a bill will… well…shall I say, “spread it’s tiny wings and fly away”…I mean what did they except? It’s Oklahoma, there’s wind. Now if they ask me, I will go around and retrieve their poor wind blown bill, but if they don’t…I won’t.

So that brings us to the story at hand for the title “Man of Action?”… This particular event happened earlier in my career at Starbucks…I remember it well… It was a busy, sunny, weekday morning. I was running register in the drive-thru. The next person in line drove up to the window and pleasantly handed me his debit card…But I dropped it! I told him I would get it…but I didn’t have time to run all the way around the building…that would have taken too much time! And I couldn’t let him get it, I mean after all it was my fault it happened! So, without much thinking I did the only thing I saw fit to do… dive… out the window. With my top half near the pavement, and my bottom half still in the window I tried with great passion to reach the card I had dropped…finally I reached the card! Just one thing, the sharpie that was on my apron fell off…farther under the car then the card did…I reached, and reached and finally got it!…I felt myself slipping. I turned around to find out not only am I half way under the guy’s car…but that I’m more then 80% out of the window. I tried to push myself back up, but it was no use…I was stuck. I tried calling for someone to hoist me back up, but obviously not anyone had noticed an entire employee not in the building anymore. After seconds, that seemed like minutes… the guy in the car called out to the Gentle Giant saying, “Man over board! Man over board!” …no joke. The Gentle Giant then hoisted me back up and all was well again in the realm of Starbucks. Well, except for the fact that everyone was laughing at the mental picture of me hanging out of the drive-thru window during the rush-hour rush…Oh well, what can you do, right?

The Man with the Iced Venti Americano

Like I stated in the aforementioned story above, people are in a hurry… no matter what time it is, no matter what day it is…And this goes for the café too. Not as often as the drive-thru, but believe me their there. As such, a Starbucks employee gets used to the demands of the hurrying customer; and tries to get them on their way as quickly as they can. With that said let us dive in to our story.

It was one slower afternoon…I was running the bar in the café when a gentleman entered the premise in a flurry of hastiness! He came quickly up to the counter and ordered an, “Iced Venti Americano, to go!”… So I made his drink as speedily as I could and handed it to him. Now usually when a person comes in, in that big of hurry they b-line it for the door as soon as they receive their beverage. But for some strange reason after he received his dink he made no effort to go. Instead, he moseyed on by the coffee beans rack and started looking at the whole bean coffee…Now I don’t have a problem with people looking at the whole bean coffee, but when you come in as fast as he did and tell me, “I want a Iced Venti Americano, to go!” something isn’t right in the state of Denmark…

So, real incognito like I watched the guy while I pretended to be making a drink…I kept this up for several seconds while the man conspicuously browsed the coffee…He then looked left, then right, then left again...Then all of a sudden…He grabbed an arm full of whole bean coffee and sprinted toward the door! Without thinking I bolted after him! I thought about leaping over the counter, but that thought didn’t go very far, so I ran as fast as I could around the counter toward the front door! In mid dash I passed by the Assistant Store Manager…she was giving me a very strange look, probably due to the fact that I was running like a mad man…So as I passed by I said, “I’m chasing a shoplifter!” and bolted passed. As I made it outside… it turns out The Coffee Master was right behind me in my pursuit, and dashed through the front door a couple of seconds after me…I looked to the left, then to the right…I had lost him. The Coffee Master said, “You go right, I’ll go left.”…so I did…because he’s The Coffee Master… and you do what The Coffee Master says, dang it. I looked to the right but there was no sign of him.

A few moments later The Coffee Master came back holding the would-be stolen coffee. Now, I’d like to tell you that there was a big fight and The Coffee Master was forced to break into some sweet Matrixy kung-fu action…but sadly that wasn’t the case...the truth is, he found the guy in his SUV, walked up to him and said, “Excuse me sir, do you happen to have a receipt I could look at for that coffee over on the passenger seat?” The guy then replied, “Oh… I must of forgotten to pay for those. You can take them.” I’m sure The Coffee Master wanted to say…Oh, gee thanks, that’s real nice of you… since it’s our coffee, jerk face!...but he didn’t. After the ordeal was all said and done, both The Coffee Master and I wondered if it was really worth the risk we took to retrieve the 3 lbs of whole bean coffee…After thinking about it for a few moments we both looked at each other and almost instantaneously come to the same conclusion…Nope, wasn’t worth it.

The Money’s Always Realer…

Now to all those who are reading this…I don’t know where you work at (or if you even work at all)… But it has been my experience that when a customer gives you a $20 bill or higher, and you check it to make sure it’s real; they are almost insulted at the very thought of you thinking that they might be a crook…but hey, I have to do my job right? right. So get over it…because we all know that people who drive nice cars can be crooks too! Ya, that’s right buddy... That brings us to the story at hand.

Now, I receive what feels like a trillion bills of tender on any-givin’ typical day on register…especially when I’m on drive-thru. As such, one gets well acquainted with his, well…money. You know… the look, the feel… of cotton-- I mean cash…*Ahem*… Anyway, one normal day (and I dare you to define “normal”) while I was doing drive-thru, a man drove up and politely paid for his drink with a $20 bill…Now, there’s nothing unusual about a man paying for his drink with a $20 bill… So I took the bill, but it felt a bit strange. I looked down to notice that it was an older $20 bill…I held it up to the light to look for the security thread that is placed in the bill…but there was one little snafu…it wasn’t there! The bill was a counterfeit! So, I broke the news to the man as politely as I could…To my surprise, like it was no big deal, he said “What? Really? You’re kidding?”. I said, “No sir, I’m not kidding…see, (I showed him the bill) no security thread…” He then reached into his wallet and pulled out another $20 bill, and said, “I wonder if this one fake too?” and then handed it to me…I mean come on, for the love of doughnuts…you can’t check it yourself? Anyway, I took the bill and held it up to the light… it too was indeed counterfeit… He then replied (in the same tone as before), “wow, that’s crazy, I just got these from the bank.”.

Now, up until this point I truly believed that he was the victim of getting some counterfeit bills…but after that statement I just looked at him like, ok buddy what are you trying to pull?…sure you got those bills from a bank. I mean banks are always letting counterfeit bills slip right passed their security. Give me a break! Did he think I was born yesterday? Alright I’m done ranting, back to the story… Obviously after that statement I was a bit suspicious... Well, more then a bit… So I took the $20 bill and passed it around to everyone, let them see it, and pointed out why it was fake…then, like a dummy I gave it back to him!…why, you ask? Because…well…umm…I don’t really know...But anyway, he still needed to pay for his beverage…so, he pulls out a $100 bill, and before he could even possibly know it was real or counterfeit he stated, “Here, I know this one’s real.” I looked at it. It was indeed real…

Now I ask you, how in the world did he know that that bill was real without looking at it? ...unless he knew the other bills were fake? (some kind of bum, bum, bum music plays in the background)… Hmm, very interesting wouldn’t you say?…So finally the drink came out and the man, driving a rather nice car, left… I decided it would be a good idea to get the license plate number…So as he left I looked at the plate…The guy had personal license plate… Now I don’t know why it surprised me, but it was “AMEN 1”…go figure. I should have known that it was some religious zealot...I’ll bet he’s one of those guys that beats up his dog then somehow says, that’s God will …what a jerkateer! Now some of you might be saying… Ben, you just gave us his license plate number…you can’t do that, that’s evidence… But I’m not giving away evidence, because you would have to say what state it was from, and I sure didn’t say what state it was from, OK!...gosh!

Starbucks, the Untold Stories... Part 3

*Editor's Note*

Looking back on these blogs it's hard to believe, but back in December, 2005 these, "Starbucks, the Untold Stories" blog dealios were the talk of a town... no really. So much buzz surrounded this blog in particular that random people started coming in to my store to see if they could guess which co-worker was who (From what I wrote in the blog). Little did I know at the time that this was the beginning of the end for the 'Starbucks' blog series. In fact, a couple of months later I would be forced to take them off the internet for "employee safety", but since it's 4 years later now, and no one from this post works there anymore I figure it's all good.

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Hello again everyone! That’s right after months of anticipation it’s finally here! Part 3 of the “Starbucks, the untold stories” blog dealio. As in part 2 it’s still all about the co-workers… that’s right more juicy gossip, unbelievable rumors, and… stuff like the first two things I said. So sit back, relax, pop a bag of popcorn and read…”Starbucks, the untold stories Part 3… The disclaimer below is there because if you do seem to recognize the people at Starbucks from this blog, you won’t know their real name, and if they read this they’ll be like, “Well, that’s not my name, so that must not be me”…. or so I hope.

DISCLAIMER

The names below have been changed to protect the dumb, dimwitted, and down right stupid….Not to mention the nice, smart, and really, really good looking cool people. Otherwise from the names being changed, the descriptions below are pretty darn accurate… Starbucks does not necessarily concur with the views or statements below….So don’t sue them…. And now, without further ado…The other co-workers.

Smart Guy Face

First, we'll talk about Smart Guy Face, we'll call him that because he looks pretty smart with his glasses…on his face… heck, I’ll bet he really is smart...Anyway, Smart Guy Face, as well as a few others started the same day as I did. He’s one of those guys that if you called him nasty names, insulted his dog, called him…more nasty names…he’s never going to get mad. He’ll just look at you like he looks at people that do that kind of stuff to him… and by the face that he’s giving you, you know you’ve done wrong…The thing with him though is, almost nobody knows how old he is…(Twilight Zone music plays) It’s like a huge mystery that most of the co-workers can’t get out of him. He looks about 23 or 24, but rumors fly about him possibly being as old as 30….I know how old he is, but I’m sure not going to be the one who breaks this bubble…Oh the scandals of Starbucks…Other then that he’s a stand up guy, because he’s sure not sitting….Ok, ok, I know cheesy…what I meant was there’s no dirt on him….Ohh, you know what I mean.

Mood Ring Girl

Ok, next is Mood Ring Girl, we’ll call her that because her moods are like the Oklahoma weather, if you don’t like the one she’s in… wait fifteen minutes it will change. Working with Mood Ring Girl (who also started the same day as I did) can be somewhat of an adventure sometimes… Though she’s nice most of the time, in the midst of rushes sometimes she can get a bit….well…moody (go figure). Also, until recently I was a nerd to her…How do I know this? Because she told me, “You’re such a nerd!” It doesn’t get too much clearer than that…What changed this cynical view of me you ask? Me… doing the robot…yep…seriously…I kid you not. And to think, I thought I was pushing myself off the edge of nerd-dome… So now what am I to her? A cool nerd! ya, baby! I’ve upgraded…Well, that will do it for Mood Ring Girl…

Short Cuppin’ Cakes

Alrighty then, moving right along…Next is Short Cuppin’ Cakes, we’ll call her that because (a) she’s short (b) she’s pretty sweet…like a cup cake…or whatever. Ok, so Short Cuppin’ Cakes is put on the “bar” frequently, why we’re not quite sure …We think the boss needs a good laugh so he puts her there…why is it funny? Because she is shorter than most everyone else there, and it’s hard for her to reach certain things…So, well she’s trying to put the beans in the machine she’s like on her tip toes…You’re like, “don’t lose your balance”…I know that‘s mean… She should take some ballet classes…heck, thanks to this job she could probably start at an advanced level…Other then that she really just wants to be at home with her husband…and I can respect that.

The Gentle Giant

Next on the agenda is The Gentle Giant, we’ll call him that because he’s like 6’5”, big (muscular, not fat), and he’s not mean. (which is a good thing) One thing’s for sure though…he can cook….on the bar! (making coffee drinks, not like chicken or steak) I would say he’s the 2^nd fastest bar in all of the Midwest Region Starbucks, in the central part of the Oklahoma City area, Across from hospitals. Yep, not bad at all… And no, for all those of you wondering… I am not number one…don’t cry… Sadly The Gentle Giant will be leaving us soon, leaving a tremendous vacancy at our Starbucks…Get it? He’s the Gentle “Giant” and he’s going to leave a tremendous vacancy?....Oh, forget it.

Drama King

Ok, next we come to the Drama King. I call him that because he’s an actor, and at times he’s just a plain drama king…To understand Drama King, we first have to know the Drama King… First off, it seems he never gets to do café; they stick him in the drive-thru every time to fend for himself…why they do this is beyond me because he doesn’t really like doing drive-thru…or the people that come through it…of course he doesn’t really like a lot of things about Starbucks, as he will let you know… At times there are crazy drive thru-ers which he just can’t handle…(which would be about one out of every three customers for him) In which he doesn’t handle in the best way… Let me tell you, you do one thing that he thinks is not…kosher…then he’ll just give you the finger as you leave…or maybe utter a nasty phrase or word at you…most of which you will never know, but for me and the other co-workers watching him it can be at times funny, and at other times…well…not-so-funny. He’s just the kind of guy you have to take with a grain of salt…

The Nice Guy

Okie-dokie next is The Nice Guy. Why do I call him The Nice Guy you ask? Because he’s the guy your mom would probably let you go out with (if you’re a girl that is, if you’re a guy…he doesn’t swing that way). He not the best at what he does, but then again…he’s not the worst…So I guess you could say that The Nice Guy is your nice and average Starbucks partner… But there is a quality he has that sets him apart from the others…what is this quality you ask? (yes, I know I assume you people ask a lot of questions, but whatever…) Well… he taught me the fine art of killing flies with a rubber band of course! How do you do it you ask? Well, you take a rubber band and--…well you--…well, it’s hard to explain…but I can tell you it’s a great pass-time! In fact I think they should add it to the Summer Olympics, but that’s just me…

Miss Lazy Pants

Alright, Miss Lazy Pants is next. Why do I call her Miss Lazy Pants… I think you can figure this one out by yourself…Now don’t get me wrong, I think she is a nice person and all, but she has the fine (or not-so-fine) art of looking like she’s working, but she’s really not doing a dag-blasted thing down to a science… What I find rather amusing is the fact that she really can’t figure out why she hasn’t been promoted…umm…gee, could it be that the boss sees you almost sleeping when you think he’s not looking? Naw…couldn’t be…although I will say, if I were the one that did what she did even for two and a half seconds, he’d be like, “FOCUS, BEN RICHARDSON!!” and not only would I not ever get promoted, I’d be fired or something…oh well, in the words of Jim Carry, “that’s the way the cookie crumbles“

Boss Lady

Moving right along, we go on to Boss Lady. I call her that because as you can probably guess…she my boss…well, one of them. (it’s tough being the low man on the totem pole) What’s to say about Boss Lady? Well, in one sense she could have been called Mood Ring Girl 2, but then you have to think about her situation…She has to work right under the “Big Boss” of the store, “Mr. FOCUS BEN RICHARDSON! Man” (which is enough to drive almost any sane person into insanity I’m sure), throw in some incompetent employees, working with, “Mr. FOCUS BEN RICHARDSON! Man”, throw in the Christmas rush, a par-trish and a pear tree, and of course “Mr. FOCUS BEN RICHARDSON! Man” and I think I’d be moody too. She really is a nice lady, I just think she under a lot of stress…and I don’t think working under “Mr. FOCUS BEN RICHARDSON! Man” helps any either…

The Coffee Master

Next we come to The Coffee Master. I call him The Coffee Master because he is omnipotent in all things coffee. I first met The Coffee Master in training, and was blown away be the speed in which he can make drinks…And yes, for those of you wondering he is the fastest bar in all of the Midwest Region Starbucks, in the central part of the Oklahoma City area, Across from hospitals… I feel as if he’s the “Yoda”, if you will, of our Starbucks and if you listen to him you will become stronger with the force— I mean faster on the bar. Not to mention he’s just an all around cool guy…except for the occasional “good games” he gives...which is a pat on the booty.... (which of course I do not have…) so there’s that rather awkward moment where we look at each other…then we’re both like…ok, whatever…and go on with our lives.

Singing Barista Face

Ok, so now we come to Singing Barista Face. Why do I call him that? Well for starters he has a face, he’s a barista, and he sings. Not well mind you… but it’s the amount of passion in which he sings that captivates the heart and soul of the Starbucks cliental…not to mention the humor. When the unsuspecting customers of the drive-thru hear these notes of passion…. Some laugh, some cry, and some say, “don’t quit your day job” (In which to this he turns to me and says, “This is my day job.”). Still others ignore the fact he sang at all… “Ya, gimmie one of those large…mo-cha lattes”…dolts. More like we’ll give you a swift kick in the…umm...pants, crapface. How can they be such heartless souls anyway? What if he was one of those sensitive guys that got hurt easily? What if he did something tragic?! All I have to say they’d feel pretty bad…well, maybe not ordering like that…”large mo-cha latte”…dolts. And for those of you who think that his melodies of joyousness end in the drive thru… they don’t. If you come in and he’s in the café, you will indeed be serenaded…with notes… of song… and wittiness. Anyway you look at it, you gotta say Singing Barista Face is one happy peppy person…well, on we go!

Mr. Laid Back

Alright, next we come to an individual that gives new meaning to the word patience. Mr. Laid Back. Why do I call him that exactly? Well…I don’t think it’s possible to make him mad….that would be a good reason eh? But you say give me an example…alright…”Hey, Mr. Laid Back we’re out of this…” He’s response, “It’s all good, man”. “Hey Mr. Laid Back so-and-so says they can’t make it to work tonight”. He’s response, “Hmm, alright... cool” Sometimes you just want to test him…you know like saying… “I won the lottery last night, and I’m giving you all the money!” He’s response of course would be… “Cool”. In fact I’d say fifty percent of his vocabulary is the words “cool” and “man”… And on top of that it’s very rare to hear a sentence longer than like five words…Somehow I picture him fitting in the1960’s very well…”Want some drugs man?”…”Cool.” j/k. No, but really he’s a cool cat bro--… Oops, looks like it’s pretty catchy…

The Sweet One

So next on my list comes The Sweet One…So why would I call her The Sweet One? Well, she’s one of those girls that if you wanted to be mad at her you just couldn’t. She’s always ending her sentences with please and thank you, and…stuff…that sounds like…well…please and thank you…*ahem*. So what on earth could I write on about her you may (or may not) ask? Well…let’s just say you can usually can tell when The Sweet One is on bar…not because people are mad and giving us the bird (which does happen), not because drinks are getting made slow (this indeed happens too), and certainly not because she has two left feet!…j/k (ok, so the last statement was not totally actuate). So how do you tell, you ask? Her steam wand! It’s a mess! Crusted over with between 160-180 degree milk that looks, and probably tastes like a booger straight from your nose….except they're a little whiter...and…possibly more crusty. Scary thought eh? So what did I do you say to save you, the public, from this horrible crusty, booger tasting milk problem? Well, I gave her such a hard time about her lack of clean steam wanding habits that now one of two things happen when I work with her…One: she keeps her steam wand clean and the peasants rejoice …or, Two: I clean her steam wand for her and the peasants rejoice…So either way you look at it you win…well…get your drink…that you paid for…without crusties… whatever.

Buff Guy Face

Ok, here we come to one of my favorite people to work with… Buff Guy Face. Why do I call him that you ask? ….Well, as you might be able to guess, it’s because of the fact that he’s huge! Walking though doors sideways…ripping phonebooks with his…muscular muscles...ok, well… you get the picture…Anyways, in the rather slow afternoons of Starbucks he is better known as my partner in crime…As to this I mean, he aids me in my mischievous acts of the afternoon. Let me elaborate…As you, the unsuspecting, fun hating—I mean loving, frappuccino drinking customer come though the drive-thru to make an order…you might not hear exactly what you might be expecting to hear… For sometimes I answer as an automated computer voice like you might hear when you’re on the phone with Sprint, saying, “For the love of God, let me talk to a real human!”…yes, that’s how I answer…well, sometimes. Now I know what you’re thinking….You would be able to tell the difference between a computer and a human…but that’s where you are wrong. The fact is, we have it down to an art…First, I take the order like a computer, most of the time the person really thinks it’s a computer, but can’t believe it…”That’s amazing!” some say…the other percent of the time is where he helps me…When they pull up to the window…Buff Guy Face: “How do you like our new automated order taking drive-thru?” Customer: “Wow, you mean that really was a computer?! I’m telling you technology is getting too advanced… one day it’s going to replace us, you know.” To which we tell them that it was me all along…and they leave…not happy…because they were fooled…by a Starbucks person, and that’s not cool. By the way that customer really said that "technology" line.

Mr. Artistic

Ok, next we are lead to Mr. Artistic. I call him that because most of the awesome drawings in the store are done by him, with the exception of the stuff that sucks….that’s me. One thing you might notice about Mr. Artistic is that he gets this blank look upon his face, often. I like to call this look, “Drummer face” why, because to me it looks like the face most drummers get when they’re really intensely playing drums…Another thing about Mr. Artistic is that sometimes he tries to act black…you wouldn’t know it from just looking at him, but the man has the riming skills of a …well…a white man… a white man that can’t rap. But that’s what makes it fun. Picture this, a man, a artistic man…rapping…you’d laugh too... aright so, over and out.

2^nd String Singing Barista Face

Next on the list is 2^nd String Singing Barista Face. Why do I call him that…well, because to the surprise of most at our Starbucks, he too sings to the public…To be quite honest I’m not sure if he’s copying Singing Barista Face, or doing what he thinks is original….sometimes when I work with him it feels like he’s one of those new superheroes, in the sense that it feels like he’s got talent at Starbucks (not in singing), but he doesn’t know how to control his “power” if you will….example one: Don’t sing what feels like two verses of song when we have a line of cars to the main road…I’m mean I’m a fun lovin’ guy and all, but come on work with me a little…example two: If you’re trying to score points with the Oklahoma Starbucks customers don’t sing a song that’s all about Texas!...what this will get you is…beat up, your head flushed down a toilet, and your dog thrown to the bottom of the river… But really folks, he’s a nice guy, and pretty ok on the bar…so go easy on him.

The Transfer

Alrighty then, next is The Transfer…Now if I have to tell you why I call her that, I’m going to have to just…tell you, I guess. Well, she transferred from another location, so I call her The Transfer…there, are you happy?! At first we didn’t quite know what to make of The Transfer…but to approval of everyone she learned quickly, and does her job well. She, like Short Cuppin’ Cakes, is really quite short….The difference between her (The Transfer) and Short Cuppin’ Cake’s is…while Short Cuppin’ Cakes might take your crap, and heckling or what-not… The Transfer will look at you like, “Just keep it up buddy, I dare you...” And looks like she could light you up… like… a Christmas tree…on the forth of July… I think the short, boney little women must have some Italian in her…well, that or a wicked right hook, either way I’m not going to push her too far and find out… One thing is for sure though…she pulls her weight…she was sick the other day. and thus called in sick…go figure… it took us all day to catch up from her not being there…of course if it was Crapface that called in sick I don’t think we’d notice much of a change…I can see it now, “Hmm…is it warmer in here? Or is it just that the cold, dark, bitter personality of Crapface isn’t here?”

Miss Spunky Pants

The next fellow is a fireball, believe you me. That’s why I call her Miss Spunky Pants. She has so much soul, that if you could bottle it, people would only have to buy Campbell’s soup to warm their heart…because the soul would be fine…not to mention if you could bottle it you would probably have made a pretty good bomb. The thing is with Miss Spunky Pants is that she is usually so dossal that you wouldn’t think under that hat she usually wears that there’s a crazy ball of fire lurking beneath. It’s true…I think her real job is Bat-Women! How else could you explain the reason she can’t work nights. The fact that when she gives you “the look” you believe she really could kick your butt. And last the reason, the fact that I saw her per-roo-sing around town in the bat-mobile! Ok, ok, so maybe the last statement isn’t completely accurate…but I still wouldn’t be surprised if she really was Bat-Women.

Miss Sarcastic Face

Next we are brought to Miss Sarcastic Face…gee, I wonder why I would call her that??? could it be she’s very sarcastic? No way!... As you can see, she has a catchy type of personally. The thing with her is, you can never tell when she’s serious or not…which sometimes can get a Ben in trouble…One moment we’re joking around and having what I think is a fun time…and the next moment she’s all like I’m not joking, go clean the bathrooms… I mean dag yo, now that’s cold. I can picture it now… she gets married…she’s all “lovey-dovey” and the next thing the guy knows is he’s sleeping on the couch...for not saying thank you with a British accent while watching reruns of Family Guy on the fourth Tuesday in July, or something stupid like that…To add insult to injury (so to speak) she doesn’t like the way I do drive-thru…don’t do this, don’t do that. Gee, I’m sorry I don’t live up to your qualifying qualifications for the Starbucks quality drive-thru…Also, she has haled herself the “your momma joke queen” and if your momma joke isn’t up to her “par”…she’ll just look at you and say, "that was stupid"…no joke. Hmm…the only outcomes I’ve come to are, maybe she has forgotten how to feel, maybe she’s never had a guy, maybe she’s got a stick stuck up her…umm…nose. I don’t know for sure, but I think it’s one of those… But in the end it’s only going to hurt her…so to end this properly…This is for you Miss Sarcastic Face…Your momma sooo fat, she had to hale a dump truck instead of a taxi! …lol...gets me everytime.