Anyway, here’s an item-by-item counterpoint:

Put down the cell phone if you’re ready to order.

Well, no shit, Dick Tracy. Everyone knows that (everyone reading your article, at least), and even if they don’t, they have no obligation to offer the cashier more than their order. From the article:

I think it helps if the customer acknowledges the worker right off the bat, like asking, “How are you?” rather than just barking the order and not making eye contact,” Renae says. “A little skotche of humanity.”

“A skotche of humanity.” Just say that to yourself. “A skotche.” You are a cashier. Your job is to take my order, barked or otherwise. If I can do that and operate a phone at the same time, more power to me. Something that also bothers me, is this idea that, as a customer, I have to acknowledge the cashier “right off the bat” with some form of banal pleasantry. Let me get this straight, you work part time for an hourly wage that is above minimum, you get insurance, and, on top of that, you want tips, and I’m the one that is supposed to initiate conversation?  Fuck that. I don’t want to pull a Mel Gibson, but shouldn’t you also blow me?

Realize that menus aren’t universal or open to interpretation.

“Take a minute to evaluate where you are when you step through the doors,” begins this idiotic Pro-Tip®. Turns out these baristas can’t handle it if you order a frappuccino and all they offer is a mochaccino, even if it’s exactly the same concept. Also, know your sizes. Don’t be up in my coffee shop ordering some Venti® Frappuccino® bullshit when all we gots is Mochaccinos® and, it’s Large® here, not Venti®. You know where the only place I get size bullshit is? Starbucks. I don’t go to a different coffee shop and order anything other than standard sizes (small, medium, large). Only at Starbucks do I get obnoxiously corrected: Smalls are Tall, Mediums become Grande, and larges of course are Venti. The best thing is that this information is cheerfully relayed to me in the same fashion as an under-the-breath “fuck you”, after I order. They know what I mean, they just have to correct me. It’s probably corporate policy.

Don’t treat the shop as your personal space.

Actually, I don’t need to quote anything from the article for this. I’m just going to give you a big Pro-Tip®: Treat the shop as your personal space. That’s exactly why they have upholstered couches and free wi-fi. They want you to stay because the longer you stay, the more likely you are to buy more of their shit. That’s their whole plan, so hang out, charge your laptop, surf the interGoogles®. See if they kick your ass out. Starbucks subsidizes these expenses through their overpriced food items, coffee mugs, and shit heel Kenny-G/Alanis Morissette “That’s What I Call Easy Listening” CDs. It pisses their cashiers off, because if you’re on the interGoogles® updating your FaceSpace® twattles, you’re not tipping them. Also, their advice uses the phrase “follow protocol” at. a. fucking. coffee. shop. Follow protocol and fuck right off.

Tip when it’s necessary, and sometimes even when it’s not.

Don’t tip when it’s not necessary. It defeats the purpose of tipping.

And check out this gem: “It takes a village to get you that cup of coffee.” Woah, shit. I had no idea. They’re right, though. It takes a village of underpaid, underfed child laborers to get you that cup of coffee. I kid, but I kid with hate. It also takes a village to get you that Arch Deluxe® and fries too, but I guess that’s beside the point. Other things that take a village to bring to you include your mail, your cable TV, and your groceries, so get to tithing motherfucker. I guess those things aren’t delivered by a chipper, acne-free face with a plastic smile so fuck them, right?

Be patient.

It takes time to concoct your beverage. It’s not just a cup of coffee with some cream on top of it. That’s some handcrafted bullshit right there. It’s not like corporate doesn’t have that shit on lock down. No way! It takes years to learn how to properly concoct these caffeinated libations. The apprenticeship program alone takes upwards of four hours a day for nearly a week of training just to work yourself up to ice mochas. So you’re going to want to be patient. I know to the untrained eye it just looks like they’re pouring liquid from one container into another container, blending that liquid, and transferring it to another container, but really there’s a lot going on behind the scenes that you’re not seeing.

Side note:

Every time I end up ordering something at a coffee shop, I’m reminded of this:

After waiting in line behind a bunch of construction workers and dumpy secretaries (which gave me an opportunity to remind myself that, although some people are less fortunate than me, it doesn’t give them an excuse to take for-freakin-ever ordering their tall chai tea), I finally get to order my usual: A Tall Light Pumpkin Spice Mocha Frappuccino, 1/2 Soy, Easy Whip with a shot of mocha and a dash of ginger. Then the frumpy barista asks me if I want crème, and she adds that, if I do, technically it’s not a Light Frap. It was everything in me not to verbally lash out at this worker bee in a hungover fit of rage. Instead I just bit my tongue and replied with a stern, “I guess we won’t be having crème then will we?”

I expect a certain level of competence from servers, even if it is at a fast-food type place like Starbucks. Did she not think I knew that? Did she not think that maybe I would be going directly to the sweetener kiosk? Whatever. I did go to the sweetener kiosk — my little island of calorie-free chemical confections, where I dumped a small handfull of splenda into my tall Frap before pocketing some napkins and leaving.

Maybe it was bad coffe karma, or the little Starbucks goddess on the cup was cursing me, but halfway to work, I spilled a generous portion of my Frap all over my new Banana Republic cardigan. Some of it also leaked onto the back rest of the driver’s seat of my Audi. I nearly crashed into the car in front of me, but, I was able to pull over to the side before any major catastrophe. Luckily, I happened to have an unopened 16 ounce bottle of Lemon Perrier which I was able to use to blot up the spilled Frap and satiate the thirst the Frappuccino was supposed to quench.

Caffe Vanilla Frappuccino

Smooth and sweet, you fit in to almost any crowd. No one would suspect you of being a coffee tweaker!

What Flavor Frappuccino Are You?