In the past thirty days, one individual arrived at this site as a result of a search for: barista doesn’t love me anymore.
Yes she/he does. Just stop ordering decaf.
Perceived absence of love could also be informed by an especially long day. During holiday shopping season people who usually frequent Starbucks exclusively suddenly manifest in fancy shops and don’t understand what a macchiato is, which is usually expressed with: “You made this wrong, and I wanted mine with caramel.”
Tips also sometimes take a turn for the worse, because these people don’t know what’s happening; they just have to buy something before their wallets run away from their faded ass pockets. The giant menacing jar in reaching distance seems like a potential source of cramping, interfering with successful package abduction strategies. Baristas should consider adorning these with festive holiday wrapping and clipped portraits of orphans with striking resemblance to their own hollow eyes and hungry frames. Or perhaps lighting them up like a tree to stimulate the pagan Pavlov to put something on it or under it.
It’s also important to not love your barista too much, unless you frequently see him or her in an informal fashion outside of the work place. Otherwise, it is a job, you are a customer, and kindness is optional (for both of you). They forgive me my occasional shifty-eyed morose days when I wander in with an exhausted copy of Frank O’Hara’s Meditations on an Emergency and don’t have anything witty to say about the weather. You don’t know what kind of tragedy Saturday night brought with such a wide assortment of shitty bands to choose from, or what sort of unfortunate growths their bodies are blooming underneath uncomfortable clothes. Lay your own egg.
Another arrived at this site after hunting for: precious daydreams strip club.
I’m not opposed to stripclubs, but there are few I’d categorize as “precious daydreams” and the ones that do earn that title reflect ignorant fictional construction of the eccentricities of Japan. This collage is crafted on Hello Kitty notepaper and includes anime presentation and lots of dye-hard kids in complicated outfits and pigtails flashing peace signs at invisible cameras. Imaginary Precious Daydreams features the predictable school girl outfits alongside the goth lolitas and glam kids and sci-fi creations sneaking from bodies with sharp angles and no muscle tone anywhere. Celebrities serve as reasonable accessories, little dogs in expensive bags.
This blog is not so precious or stripped, but it’s suitably daydreamed and heartbroken over baristas.