The Tale of Two Coffees

Hey kids!

Welcome to Stupid Sunday, where I detail something stupid I did today. ENJOY!


I go to Starbucks every single day. If you think that’s an exaggeration, please feel free look at my credit card statement and/or my Starbucks card on my phone in horror.

Every single day I order a grande vanilla iced coffee.

Every single day.

I don’t even shower every day. That’s how up there this is with “breathing” on my list of things to do.


The bottom of the cup actually filters into a tube that goes directly into my blood stream.

On my drive over to Starbucks, I was getting nervous because I was going to a location I normally don’t go to and I know it can be disgustingly busy there. To take the edge off, I started repeating the order “tall vanilla iced coffee” in my head. Mind you, the last time I ordered a “tall” anything at Starbucks, I was in 10th grade and at the time the talls were the size of what the current grandes are. Don’t worry, I feel like a giant asshole for even knowing this and talking about it publicly.

At one point during my mantra, I even caught myself. I don’t even order talls. It’s a grande. Grande. Grande. I want a venti. It’s Sunday, I’ll get a venti.  I want so much coffee I can feel the kidney stones getting ready to pass. Tall. Tall vanilla iced coffee. No it’s not a tall it’s a venti.

When I finally arrived to said Starbucks location, the line was wrapped around a beef jerky and Oprah tea display and wound out the door. All the people standing and waiting made me anxious, so I just let my eyes dart around and continued with my inner monologue turning into a vicious dialogue over coffee size.

Sure enough when  it was my time to order, “CAN I HAVE A TALL VANILLA ICED COFFEE PLEASE!”


The nice barista prepped my baby sized cup and asked if that would be all.


No, I’m a dumb idiot. Why can’t you see this pain on my face?

When I made it over to the cashier, I knew I couldn’t leave there with just a teaspoon of coffee. My heart was set on jumbo and by god, jumbo is what I would get.

The nice cashier started, “One tall vanilla iced coffee? That will be–”


This is the kind of response kids would call “no chill.” A normal person would have asked for the size to be changed. Not me, I prefer to double fist two very small coffees because that is the adult thing to do.

“Uh, sure. You want two tall vanilla iced coffees?” nice cashier asked.

“YES, ONE IS FOR A FRIEND” said the psychotic person.

Lying always helps the situation, despite no one caring if you are ordering two coffees for yourself or not.

I paid, I waited, I brought my two Barbie accessory sized coffees over to the sugar/dairy counter and proceeded to make two identical coffees because me and my friend just so happen to like our coffees the exact same way, from the half & half and whole milk combo down to the dash of cinnamon on top.

This is me. This is the choice I made. I am a real person existing in the world doing these things.


Have you ever gone out of your way to make yourself less embarrassed about a situation that literally does not matter to the rest world? Any really weird things you did to cover your tracks to avoid anyone knowing you’re an idiot?


K, I love you. Happy Sunday. Remember, Jesus is King and so is Simba.

One thought on “The Tale of Two Coffees

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