Eight Shot Americano

Today, M served a purpose! I wanted to get an espresso machine, and with her 40% discount and the machines being on sale, there wasn’t going to be a better time. We got up nice and early and the three of us (B, M and I) went to the Starbucks she has worked at for the last month. She insisted that we go there, and not to the one just down the street, because she had made bonds there and wants to help them improve their merchandise sales.

Well, two things. One, they acted like they barely knew her. Two, we waited for over a fucking HOUR to get the shit I wanted and then they didn’t even have the grinder! It was ridiculous. They kept forgetting about us. Clearly she has no pull when it comes to getting service - perhaps this stems from the fact that they probably find her annoying and wonder why the hell she keeps coming back to that store even though she lives 20 minutes away.

So, did you ever get that grinder you wanted, SS? Ah, yes I did! After going to FOUR different Starbucks stores, we finally found one that had it. That is ABSURD, Starbucks. You should be ashamed of yourselves. Anyway, naturally, M got a drink at 3 of the 4 stores that we went to. She got a latte, a 4 shot Americano and then an 8 shot Americano. And she is still supposed to go out with her bff J later! Oh, and at one of the Starbucks stores we went to, a Chapters was attached, so she had to go buy a $15 VW magazine. YOU ARE POOR! STOP BUYING THINGS!

At some point during the day, she asked me if I would go to her mom’s place so that she can pick up some money that her mom owes her. I asked where she lives and she gave me a landmark in the area, “just park by that building.” She refused to tell us where her mom lives. I asked her who the fuck she thinks we are going to tell, the feds? No one gives a shit where your mom is and she is doing a shitty fuckin’ job hiding from the government when she is getting her mail delivered to the house she’s renting. M said that she is supposed to tell everyone that her mom is in Toronto. Right. I guess she figures that when the FBI comes to interrogate and torture us for that valuable information about her slag of a mom, we won’t have anything to give up. Anyway, when she got back in the car, she tried to tell us a story about her stupid fucking cat, to which I yelled “BORING” and so she stopped. Then I asked her to continue with the story, but I yelled “BORING” again and so she refused. Thank fuckin’ god.

Oh, and on the drive to one of the stores, B told M that she should really start her car up, since it has been sitting for a month. M told her that she isn’t going to bother because it is going to be all “broken and shitty” anyway and she is just going to sell it. B asked her why and she said that selling it will be easier than starting it. This is a real human being, folks. She really exists. I can’t believe it myself sometimes.