In Which Tyler Rants - Again

Survival in Starbucks.
Part 1 - In the Presence of Thine Frappuchino

Oftentimes in restaurants, you will walk in, wait in line with a dozen other people, make outlandish decisions (such as whether or not you actually want fries with that), and the process ends with the cashier giving you a receipt with an order number on it, eventually your food, and you are off on your merry, artery-clogging way. Starbucks, however, being the brainchild that it is, adds an extra addend into the equation: They enforce the requirement of using an actual name. Now, while this may personalize your order considerably more, there are two equally considerable drawbacks to such a system. Observe:

1. Firstly, in order to even get a decent cup of coffee at Starbucks now, you have to make at least four decisions. If, like me, you like your coffee early on, at a point which your brain hasn't started working yet, this in and of itself can be quite a lot to handle. So finally, after not only deciding on, but actually pronouncing your order, you cannot go sit down and read the newspaper, you cannot go to the bathroom, you cannot answer your cellphone, you must give them a name.

2. Second, it also becomes a rather large security risk. We should know well enough not to leave our identification lying about, nor let anyone else know our PIN number, and we even teach our children not to give out too much information on the internet. Why? Safety. Yet, what do we do with empty Starbucks cups? We throw them away. Now trash-browsing prowlers not only know our faces, but our names and how we like our double-chocolate low-fat decaf soy vanilla mocha-chinos in the morning.

How do you avoid such strain on your cerebral cortex in unholy hours of the morning? Or, more importantly, the vagabonds bent on tracking you down and inserting said cortex in their evening meal? The procedure, actually, is quite simple: Fake it. The most logical (and practical) way to fake your identity at Starbucks (if really you must go there), is to simply give an order number. No number in particular, just a favorite number you have, or simply the first one that pops to mind. This not only sends your barrister through a loop, but gives you a nice sense of security and identity, with a nice chaser of warm caffeine streaming through your veins, in next to no time at all. The true benefit at this point is that, if you actually used that advice, you are now a cold-hearted enough of an individual to give the taker of your order next to anything. Such examples include "Rumplestiltskin" (my particular barista at the time simply put a large R with a line next to it), "Twinkletoes" "Marsha, Marsha, Marsha", "Incoherent Slave of the Outdated Imperialist Dogma", and "6."

The best advice I can give you now is to practice your best at keeping a straight face while you say it. While Starbucks is usually a very casual organization, at early hours in the morning, the people are no-nonsense, and don't take no extra-whip mocha frappuchino from anybody.