so yesterday i worked at another Starbucks. I know, I know…”Never again. I’d rather die,” etc. Forget the drama. It’s time to grow up. So this partner from another store died in an early morning car accident. Tragic and Sad. Unfortunately, untimely death does not prevent the little piggies from wanting their coffee, so they called in emergency recruits. I got to work from 7:30 am until a bit after 10:30 pm with a nice hour lunch in between. It was all good. There were like 5 customers the whole night. Total Cake.
Timmy was this guy’s name. I saw his till tags and his coffee passport and his apron in a little plastic bag on the desk and it made me cringe. I did not cringe at the thought of Timmy, or his 2-year-old daughter. I did not cringe at the violent death of a stranger or the crunching metal or the flashing lights or the shattered glass. I cringed at the thought of the little Starbucks pile I would make if I were dead today. Till tags labeled “Teter – #1 Barista.” A coffee passport describing Black Apron Exclusive #3 as a “worm piss!!” A “mug award” for staying late to do a couple extra loads of dishes or something. I cringed at the green apron folded neatly over my tiny casket. The hands of my corpse clutching a tear-stained diploma.
The clock is ticking ladies and gentlemen. Can you hear it? Just over your shoulder?
Mae and I decided we would probably rather have a career where a) a $2 box of cereal can last less than a week with everything still being okay, and b) where crazyman cannot a)provide you the option of seeing their penis and/or b) take from you a significant part of one week’s pay.
Remember the 13-14 hour day I was talking about? I was robbed twice in that day.
Some dude came into the German Village store and asked for a variety of whole beans to be broken down into half pounds and ground. While we were doing this, he disappeared from the store. He left without several half-pounds of coffee, but he managed to escape with a significant amount of cash from our tip jar. Hours later at the intersection of Morse Road and Hamilton, a woman came into the store asking for “a smooth coffee ground for a French press, and a bold ground for a flat-bottom.” Sounds legit, right? While we were doing this for her, she also disappeared from the store, leaving us with a lot of wasted coffee and zero dollars in tips. They must have been making their rounds last night. A very lucrative career = $25 to $50 in tips per store X over one million Starbucks in Columbus (plus Cup O’ Joe, who also reported money missing…)
Don’t worry, these skanks will get what’s comin’ to ‘em!
Is it bad to feel a tiny joy at the thought of the imminent eternal punishment of someone who has recently sinned against you? Especially when they have expressed a strong disbelief in Jesus and especially when you are doing dishes in the back of the store and this person is at the front counter? Nevermind. You don’t have to answer that. (and for those of you just tuning in, it’s not that I’m good or that this person is bad, obviously. it’s not by works that you get into heaven at all. no, no it’s by faith.)
(What shall we say, then? Shall we go on sinning so that grace may increase? By no means! We died to sin; how can we live in it any longer? don’t you know that all of us who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life.)
(count yourselves dead to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus. Do not let sin reign in your mortal body so that you obey its evil desires. Do not offer the parts of your body to sin, as instruments of wickedness, but rather offer yourselves to God, as those who have been brought from death to life; and offer the parts of your body to him as instruments of righteousness. For sin shall not be your master, because you are not under law, but under grace.)
MS WALK tomorrow. Get me your pledges. I’m out.
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