Susan Senator

I used to love the Washington Square Brookline Starbucks. I did not care that they were a chain. This one was one of my favorite coffee places; probably my second favorite. Peet’s in Coolidge Corner is my absolute first, hands down. They are real, even if they are a little fake, because there are fewer Peet’s so you don’t get jaded by them. Second of all, they have better coffee. And third of all and most important, they have nice baristas.

But they are too far away from where I go on Friday afternoons. So I went to this one and we could always find a little table, and the barista was a lovely young man, and there were regulars I recognized, and it was my own little Cheers minus the annoying Cliff and Norm and Carla. This is the Starbucks that has the menacing turkey living nearby, but even that did not stop us from gobbling up their food and coffee.

Every Friday, Nat and I would go to this Starbucks while Ben had a regular appointment up the street. He would go in and he would look in the pastry case and decide what he wanted to eat. And then he would tell the barista. “Chalk-Chih Cookie, PLEASE!” The former barista was so great, he understood, and he would be courteous; he clearly appreciated Nat’s business. I always tipped a dollar for a $3 snack. Who cares? Kindness is priceless.

The new barista is an expressionless meanie. He doesn’t say thank you, he hardly waits for Nat to finish ordering, he put the water on the counter without a lid and just basically acted like we were bothering him.

Wash. Sq. Starbux (or Washed Up Starsucks, as they shall hereafter be known), closed for a week: bad already. I had to go somewhere else with Nat. Very, very bad. But he was wonderful about it. Plus that week I was with Aunt La (my sister Laura) and cousin Kimmie, some of his faves.

So Washed Up Starsucks reopened to some fanfare and we went in. Beautiful sea-green sparkly pearly tiny classy tiles all along the back filled my eyes, and I was happy. But then, oh then. I noticed that about half the tables and chairs were gone! Gone! In a Starbucks! Where there are never enough seats anyway! Oh, there are plenty of people with laptops and coffee cups that have been empty for hours, while two loyal customers loaded with treats had to stand there, while one of us kept saying in rising autistic panic, “Sit in chair sit in chair.” Then I, in rising neurotic-Susan panic, started to say loudly, “I know Natty, they changed it! There are no seats for us!”

And then there appeared two chairs against the far wall, near the bathrooms (we never sit there but now we were so glad to), without even a table.

Now, I said I was neurotic. Well I heard laughing in the backroom where the baristas hang out or cook or wash up. And I just had this feeling that this new mean one was laughing at us. Of course I have no evidence. But I just had this feeling and I could no longer even sit there. I was glaring at them, daring them to laugh my way. Oh, just give me the opportunity, New Barista Man… Even without the opportunity, I rose from my chair, shaking, and I was ready and willing to say, “I am NOT coming back here! You are mean.” (Not very inspiring, but very much to the point.)

But, Nat was ready to go, and he just strode over to the door, throwing his trash away like the good citizen he is, and we left. I was fuming so much Nat was looking at me with concern. I yelled at cars who would not let us cross even though it was raining. I slammed myself down in my chair and closed my eyes.

I came home and I poured myself a glass of wine, and said to Max, “I am going to blog that fucking place.”

So now I feel better. But where will we go next week?