Fall up.

September 11, 2008

Collect the moments one by one, Guess that’s how the future’s done. Oh oh oh.

Can we all live together, like a family, the way it was when things were easier? Oh but they were never easy. We’ve all got it hard. Anyways I guess we all just learn to give, learn to go, learn to take, learn to grow. The summer’s over, now it’s time to hole away and work to ready ourselves for the long cold. We all got it bad.

I fixed my sink tonight. Stayed up late watching episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Went to a classy all-night joint with a friend. Talked about gypsies and communal living. Makes me remember, makes me want to pick up a mandolin and shred some clothes. I love my comfy cushion, but outside is nice as well. Trees and dirt and leaves are nice too. Mountains, oh Pretty mountains! Dreams of going west. The east is soaking me up. I need to be wrung out, then hung out in the chill wind to dry. I need mountains and valleys and green.

I got a job at Hyperion Espresso about two and a half weeks ago. I still have two and a half more weeks to struggle through at Corporate (otherwise known as Starbucks.) I’m still feeling humble and awkward when I walk down the red brick sidewalk, and through the glass door on the corner. I say hello, smile, try not to seem out of place as I jump up the narrow stairway. I don’t fit there yet, but it seems like I should. Corporate makes no sense for me; an independently-owned and operated downtown coffeeshop does. It feels strange, three years of working like an unappreciated old dog at 9 dollars an hour has left me tired and overworked, but making the transition is not as easy as you’d think. I run the show at Corporate, giving people tasks and dealing with irate “This doesn’t taste right” and “I said 6 Splenda!” customers all day has prepared me for dealing with the worst caffeine addicts this city has to offer. But when it comes to independent, I’m the new girl; I was taught how to run a “new” register, how to brew coffees, how to make mochas, how to deal with the addicts, how to restock condiment bar, etc., all of which I do as second nature at Corporate. It is a humbling experience being taught how to do something you’ve been doing for the past three years.

I hope that I will learn to love it, that I will become part of the family that has existed there for many, many years. I am the new girl again, not allowed near the espresso machine for fear that I will mess something up. I have trained people how to make lattes, but at this place, I wouldn’t dare try to touch the milk pitcher without permission. Watching these baristas do their magic has made Starbucks seem like a complete joke to me, and my excitement about a “perfect” cappuccino has turned to a feeling of beverage-making inadequacy. I guess I always knew it, but never quite admitted it to myself until now: Starbucks is a corporation. They try to make money. They make money by selling a mediocre product to consumers who don’t have time to wait for a perfectly crafted latte in a downtown shop, who would rather go through a drive-thru on their way to work than wake up ten minutes earlier. They cater to the blended beverage crowd of young adults, to the commuters who need a fix, to the soccer moms on their way to their kid’s ballet lessons or athletic events. They have made it this far doing what they do, and will continue to as long as they can ride the choppy waves of a bad economy. If McDonald’s can, they can.

I’m not saying Corporate is so terrible, or that anyone is terrible for buying their products; I’m simply saying that I am finished with it. Even if the other place doesn’t completely meet my expectations, I’m still very happy that I’ve managed to make the break after all these years. I love my downtown Burg, and I love working here. I can be myself, without a uniform or a hat or a fake smile or a band-aid and a long sleeve shirt hiding my art. I don’t have to say, “Would you like to try a pastry with that today?” or “Would you like to try one of our Nourishing Blends?” I’m on to the land of room for cream, single or double, with no whip, soy/rice/organic milk, organic French roast, for here cups, and recycling. Number ones, Karls, Christians, Mels, and real Macchiatos. Espresso that tastes like caramel and finishes smooth, and foam that is velvety every time. And all of that is worth the time of feeling like an awkward new kid again.

By the way, I still have an amazing boyfriend. It has been an effortless five months.