Warning! Corrosion!Coffee seems to be a theme with me this month for some reason. I’ve been drinking more of it and posting a lot about it, not to mention all the coffee shops that I’ve been frequenting as well. Luckily, I’m not alone. Anyway, keeping this coffee theme alive… “a funny thing happened on the way to Starbucks.”

Although I can get excited and talk your ear off about something, when I’m by myself I like to think of myself as fairly self-contained. As a customer, I’d like to believe that I’m one of the better ones. I don’t take up too much of your time, I’m polite to all the other customers and carry myself in a professional manner. Being a frequent customer of Starbucks, I’d like to think that although they may not know me by name, the staff think of me fondly as one of their better customers. Well, that may have changed today. I was running a little behind yesterday, which is fairly typical for a Monday morning, so I decided to swing through the drive through there at the Cool Springs Starbucks. It’s the only location in town with a drive thru, so I was thankful that it was on the way to my next appointment. I placed my order and then pulled around to pickup my Venti Columbian roast coffee. The person at the window took my $2, gave me my change and then handed me a hot cup of hell. Something was wrong with the cup. I don’t know what happened, but the damn thing felt all squishy and the top came off the instant I grabbed the cup with both hands. Suddenly coffee began spilling over the edges and covering both of my hands. It was like the container was filled with battery acid and it was sloshing over the top onto my hands. I don’t know why I didn’t drop it. That would have been the smart thing to do, but for some reason my brain forced my hands to hold on. I guess it thought I shouldn’t waste it, I don’t know, but I held on as wave after wave, in rapid succession covered my hands in scalding coffee. Finally the guy at the window grabbed the cup back and the worst of it was over. The gentleman was very nice and offered me napkins, cold water and even a drink coupon. I politely refused. While he was getting me a fresh cup of coffee, I had fast food napkins to wipe my hands clean and was happy to be on my way. It was a few minutes later when I discovered that I had indeed burned the knuckes of each hand. It wasn’t serious, but it did smart, which made me wonder why in the hell they have to make their coffee so freakin’ hot? I’d like to believe that the outer epidermis of my hands can withstand heat a little better than the inside of my mouth. Who drinks this stuff this hot?!? Normally, I have to let it cool for at least 20 minutes before I can take my first sip and now my hands were reminding me of that fact. To share my misery, I called my buddy

Dan to tell him my tale of woe. I bitched and moaned about the whole ordeal and he was kind enough to share my grief and give me the much needed morale support. As I relaxed a little bit and continued on my way to my next appointment, my mind continued mulling over the experience, peeling it like an onion to discover more and more nuances to the event. I recalled that it only took about 3 seconds for the whole thing to transpire. Then I recalled that the guy at the window had it open the whole time trying to assist me with the return of the lava filled cup of joe – he was a really nice guy. With each passing second more and more details came into focus, like the fact that I had cursed like a sailor through the open drive through window. That’s right, at the top of my quite powerful and projecting lungs, I remembered that throughout the event, I nailed the back wall of Starbucks with a string of obscenities that would have made a roughneck blush. I was so shocked by the fact that my hands were being burned I lost all control of my composure and proceed to scream cuss words like you wouldn’t believe. Chris Rock doesn’t cuss like this and here I am screaming it into the quiet, hip, calm atmosphere of Starbucks. I cuss as much as the next guy, but I was in rare form let me tell you. I won’t go into details, but I don’t think I’ll be visiting there anytime soon. :O I had to laugh as I recalled what it must have been like to be a customer in the store just then. You’re standing in line to place your order with the barista. You look over the menu and scan the pastries as you listen to Tony Bennett Artist’s Choice CD. You secretly wish that everything else in your life could be this hip and cool. Just as you open your mouth to place your order and insane man begins screaming at the top of his lungs. “Mother $%#! I’m burning! Argh! $#!&! #$)%^!! For the love of all that’s holy! It’s so $(#%ing hot! Call 911! #)%%&#@! I’m on fire! #($^&$ $(%^&$ I can’t see!” I’m just lucky that I didn’t kick off a chain reaction as people spilled their coffee on themselves and joined in my chant of depravity here in the buckle of the Bible Belt.