My Friend the Latte (and why I secretly hate it.)

Undoubtedly one – if not the – most popular drinks at Starbucks is the latte. Nothing more than steamed milk, espresso, and milk foam, somehow this beverage has become the flagship beverage of teenage girls across America. Want to go into a Starbucks and sound fancy to all of your fellow coffee-drinkers? Simply walk to the register with confidence and say “I want a grande latte.” Wham, bam, thank you ma’am, suddenly you’re the coolest person in the house. Only someone who is a true coffee connoisseur can order with such poise, such grace, and such confidence!

The Latte

Well, at this point you might have fooled the civilians in the “Bucks”, but you certainly have not fooled the baristas. We see the latte as a step down from a cup of coffee. Its the ugly little sister of the espresso world. The Europeans will take a cappuccino, the rich folks, a caramel macchiato, but only those who cower in fear at these foreign-sounding beverages will resort to a boring old latte. Heck, even a Vanilla Latte will at least bump you into the “acceptable” category! But be warned, the only time it is ever okay to order a latte is if its your first time into a Starbucks or if you actually like it. And very few people actually like it.

So on to why I secretly hate it. The latte is a simple drink. One of the simplest we offer. And that’s exactly where the problem lies. Do you know how absolutely soul crushing it is to make five Venti (that’s large in Bucks-speak) Lattes in a row? I feel like a factory worker during the Industrial Revolution. It kills me to use nearly three gallons of milk, the majority of which I know will end up in the trash. How do I know? Because I take the trash out, and it weighs a ton because it has THREE GALLONS OF MILK IN IT. The latte is the bane of my existence. Give me a cappuccino, a Frappacino, a Signature Hot Chocolate, give me anything, but don’t give me a latte.

Why I work at Starbucks (and nowhere Else)

In early June of 2008, I began a ritual that nearly all teenagers go through the summer of their 16th birthday: the job search. This search, a relentless cycle of resumes, applications, and rejections (if they bother to call you back at all) leaves many teens frustrated (at best) and pissed off (at worst) at the American work force. But every now and then, one teen gets lucky, and lands a job at the place of their dreams. It is a magical place, where minimum wage is supplemented by fair hours, a fun work environment, and generous tips. This magical place is of course the coffee giant, Starbucks. Such is my story.

The Life Giver

My birthday is on June 28th, so when I began applying to retailers across the Philadelphia area, I ran into the same problem time and time again. When it came time to tick the box that would decide my fate, I was always forced to pencil in a check in the box marked “No” for the question “Are you 16 years of age or older?” A devastating setback, I was turned away from job after job with not so much as a “See us in a few weeks.” Just as my spirits began to sink, I received a call on the 27th of June from the local Starbucks at which I had applied. Finally, I was being called back to meet with the manager, sign the papers, and become a tax-paying American citizen. On my 16th birthday, I nervously strode into the store, pen and papers clutched under my arm, and went to the counter to ask for the manager.

The five minutes I spent sipping my Iced Vanilla Latte seemed to stretch into hours while I awaited the manager. When she finally came out from the back room, she was smiling like a six year old. Instantly relaxed, I began to calmly sip my latte, as if I had been doing it for years. We went over the paperwork and she familiarized me with the store, patrons, rules, and of course, my fellow baristas. I was into training the next day. My job search had ended, and I was exactly where I wanted to be. I was Joe, your Barista this Morning, and I was ready to face the world of disgruntled 40 year old women who had not yet had their coffee and ever-so-chipper 20 year old men who felt the need to customize drinks beyond recognition.