Thursday 08 January 2009
	Starbucks and Their Lesbian Employees.
	At the Starbucks there are three (3) lesbians working behind the counter and another lesbian (1) is mopping the floor and while I am seated and removing the paper from my straw I'm thinking (to myself): START OF NORM'S INTERNAL DIALOGUE: Shit.  The place is filled with lesbians and Starbucks wants to know why their sales are in the toilet. Of course there's their ridiculous prices.  Check.  Additionally, their downturn can be blamed on their meteoric unchecked growth.  Check.  Then there's their employees.  Double check.  Snobbish artsy employees all alike and even more alike in the way they are different (I'm on my way up this is just a temporary job for me eventually you'll be reading about me in Wired Magazine whenever Chris Anderson stops filling the magazines pages with stories about himself or his cutting edge books).  Prices, growth, artsy employees.  Of course Starbucks real issue (regarding overall sales) lies within the inner sanctum of their human resource department.  It's broken.  These educated sharp eyed Starbucks human resource professionals are drawn to lesbians like a moth to a light and my guess is that if you were to visit the corporate office (where these professional folks work and recruit) you'd find a hornets nest of even more lesbians.  Lesbians like lesbians.  Lesbians in positions of power like hiring lesbians.  Lesbians are artsy.  Lesbians are misunderstood.  Lesbians are sensitive.  Lesbians are caring.  Lesbians prefer women but know they must work with men and therein lies the problem within the Starbucks organization.  See, family folk (their kids in tow and their daddy that works as a mechanic at the Ford dealership), don't know your secret Starbucks lesbian handshake honey and straight men coming in for a black coffee can feel your anger. Starbucks is becoming a private members only club that draws a niche clientele of enlightened misunderstood people to its doors like a moth to a light bulb. Feed a stray cat... RADIO COMMERCIAL: Come to Starbucks. We've got an army of pseudo artsy American lesbians ready to serve you.  We prefer lesbians because coffee is steeped in history and an angry American lesbian holding a scalding hot cup of coffee is a natural fit. END COMMERCIAL Coffee is coffee.  It's a bean.  Lesbians are lesbians.  They're angry.  They don't really like waiting/serving you.  Lesbians believed and took comfort in knowing they had a safe-house within the Starbucks organization and now with the store closings and the dwindling profits they're not so sure (but they are at least applying more make-up).  Wake-up Starbucks you've been infiltrated. Go quietly into the night, lesbian. You're mucking things up.  I like lesbians alright.  So long as they're naked and holding enormous dildos in each hand and kissing one another while lying atop a waterbed and it's okay to hire a couple of them 'cause of employment laws and all. END OF NORM'S INTERNAL DIALOGUE.   While I am drinking the hot chocolate through my straw the lesbian with the mop asks me to move my feet so she can mop the floor under them and when I protest she gets angry and drags the mop elsewhere. "I'll be done in a minute," I say. She says: "Take your time but we close in ten minutes." I say: "Is that k.d.lang coming out of the speaker?" She says: "Our customers love her." NOTE: On the way out of the Starbucks I asked the lesbian vampire behind the counter what day they played Frank Sinatra or Jim Morrison and she said, "Never."  I told the lesbian cashier that my favorite song is Back Door Man and I explained how hearing it makes me wanna drink lots of coffee. When she said, "Never," with regards to never playing Sinatra or Morrison at the Starbucks I turned and saw the girl with the mop standing and facing towards the counter and she was moving her hand up and down on the mop handle and I think she was simulating the act of a hand job (jerking someone off).  When she saw me turn she stopped.  I think it was a kind of secret conversation going on between the mop lesbian and the vampire lesbian behind the counter.  They wanted the straight to go.  The straight man was walking through their Starbucks lesbian garden with his dirty straight feet.  Fuck me.  I just wanted a cup of hot cocoa.  PREVIOUS   HOME   NEXT Click Here To Subscribe To Norm's Essays