I truly believe bad things happen to bad people and good things happen to people that are sometimes nice to certain people on certain day when in certain mood…

The following is the retelling of true stories of a boy at Starbucks:

Bad Karma
On our morning walk to work along Carlton St, DR and I chat about stuff and try to change the world with our flashing winning smiles against the grumpy faces of other walkers who just hate their lives or have not gotten their morning coffees yet, so hard to tell which these days. At College Station, I kiss him goodbye and then pull out my trusted iPod and add some groovy tunes to the rest of my walk which will see me to the Starbucks at Sick Kids’ Hospital for a Venti Mild With Room For Milk Please.
This particular morning, as I was walking toward the big double entrance doors at the hospital, I noticed in the reflection from the windows that this rather large marge of a woman was walking behind me. I open the door and sort of held it long enough for her to grab it behind me and then moved on to the second door and did the same. This is the time I usually remove the earphones from my ears and roll-up the cord around the iPod and put in back in my bag as I walk toward the coffee house. I would estimate the walk from the double doors to the Starbucks counter to be 121 steps, well, I’m that anal, I counted them… Upon step 24 I felt the presence of the large marge gaining on me once again. On step 39, I could see her in my peripheral vision. On step 58, we are shoulder to shoulder. On step 82, she passes me, totally going in the same direction as I am, and on step 119, she plunks her mass directly in front of me, cutting any chances I would’ve had to be before her in the line up for one of the two Baristas ready to serve their people. I could really tell she had put some effort (mostly by her panting) to make sure she’d be in front of me, so I rewarded her with a gentle morning acknowledgment such as: “You feel better now???”. She slightly turned her head without moving any other part of her body and didn’t answer, but she forced me a winning look from her eyes with a hint of a smile, and just like that she was next to be served as one guest left serving area #1 after paying. She cluelessly bolted directly at that Barista without being invited and waited for him to serve her. Unfortunately, that particular Barista suddenly needed to replenish the change in his cash register, having the most trouble opening a roll of dimes and was having none of serving the new guest until his task was completed. During the LONG 14 seconds that this took, serving area #2 cleared up and the lovely blond gentleman with a Haircut One Hundred look called on me and before I could say a word, said: “Venti Mild Room For Milk?”. I smiled and nodded yes. I gave him the usual $2.50 and took my drink to to the milk counter. I poured a bit of excess out of my cup, put in some skim milk, secured a lid on my cup and turned to make my way towards the office, all this time smiling at large marge who was still waiting to order her dozens of pre-breakfast muffins and possibly a “Venti Fat Mocha Latte Do Not Hold The Whip Seriously Dude Don’t Fuck With The Whip”.

Me = 1
Angry Beyotches = 0

Good Karma
Then later on that week, in the afternoon, as it is often customary, I visited a different Starbucks, the one at Elizabeth & Dundas for my afternoon “Venti Earl Grey One Bag With Room For Milk Please”. Now, I spend more time at this particular location as I regularly bring my book and sit for my hour lunch to read. The manager, a nice-ish looking Japanese Bear-ish guy, has always been very pleasant to me, it stems from one of my first visit when his smaller non-bear but limp wristed minion pointed out to him that I was wearing baseball hat with the word “Bear” on it and not-so-subtly said: “teehee, hey Boss, you’re not the only Bear in here anymore”. It made me smile and decided to call this place home for my afternoon teas. Most days I will go in there and never have to order, my drink will be waiting for me by the time I get to the cashier as the Manager or Minion will see me in the line-up and get it ready. It’s nice, I truly admit, and over the months, I have had a chance to chat with both of them and get to know them better. I even joked with Manager one day I came in and he notice his beard gone, I asked if he had done drag on the weekend or something. I must have caught him by surprise with the catty remark as he turned around too fast and knocked a couple of unopened coffee bags that were on his counter. He gave a strange look showing he didn’t really understand why I said that and I motion to the beard that was gone… He laughed, I laughed, Minion laughed. I ordered, I drank, I read, I went back to work.

Anyway, back to that afternoon not so long ago when I walked in for my tea and noticed Manager working on this newly added humongous microwave type apparatus behind the bar while Minion was alone working the cash register and the hot drink bar, while 9 people patiently waited in line… Manager says hello, I just roll my eyes and cross my arms over my chest with a disgusted look that said I would probably have to wait more than 2 minutes to get my fix. He knows I’m joking of course, but stops what he’s doing, prepares a “Venti Earl Grey With One Bag And Room For Milk” and comes to the other side of the bar, in the line-up with the common people to give it to me and says in front of everyone else: “Sorry for the inconvenience sir, please come again”. I laugh and gladly take the drink but he won’t take my money, so I just walk towards the cash and give it to Minion, bypassing the others. As I turn back to go put skim milk in my tea, I noticed the woman that was in front of me (we’ll call her large marge #8 due to her massive ass and her position in the queue) and she is none too happy that the gay guy behind her got served this quickly like some sort of tea drinking royalty while her unhappy self will have to wait the 2 minutes to get her fix. I wink at her.

Me = 2
Angry Beyotches = 0… still

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