Are Baristas the Richest People On Earth? My Observations.

I know what you’re thinking. Baristas? How would they be rich? They’re working the common (wo)man job in the service industry that likely makes close to minimum wage, how could you possibly think they are rich? I investigated, and, well, they’re the richest people on Earth.

Every single morning, I wake up sadder than the previous morning. I have blackout shades (humble brag) and a Queen size bed (less humble of a brag, a Queen bed in NYC is for actual King’s only) so even if it’s 11 am it’s pitch black, and when it’s pitch black, I want to stay in bed. I have to wake up 30-45 minutes before I actually need to get out of bed just so I can sit there and wallow. Pretty simple. I should throw out the shade but for whatever reason, if I know I need to do something, I don’t do it.

Anyway, the only thing that excites me from the times 5-11 am is getting my first coffee in me, preferably ice cold and overpriced. I could save money and buy my own coffeemaker but who tf am I saving for? Me? Nope. Kids? Nope. I can’t have kids. (I mean, I can, my sperm is fine, it’s just I have nobody to have unsafe sex with, a major obstacle in procreation.)

So yeah, just like everyone else, I’m a zombie until I get my first cup. I wake up (very sad), get what has to be an outlier amount of sleep out of my eyes (very painful), and watch America’s Got Talent Golden Buzzer video’s I’ve seen at least 10 times on Facebook until I’m so hungry it gets painful and I have no choice but to arise (very pathetic).

Today, however, I woke up brand new. I accidentally fell asleep mid-Game of Thrones binge around 9:30 and woke up on my side, half-dressed and on top of a freshly wrinkled pile of clean laundry without an alarm around 8 am, brain ticking like Eddie in Limitless after he takes the steroid adderal.

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I got up, threw on the only pants I wear, and left. I’ve been going to this coffee shop for about 2 months now and this is the first time I realized how fucking well everyone that works there was dressed. Coolest kids in town.

Then, there’s the iPad. The one connected to the Square chip reader (those GD Square people just sit back and collect like 3% of every single transaction on Earth which is bananas). The iPad screen is such a trap. The whole process.

The barista drills the screen with their finger 3-4 times and then whirls it around for you. The screen offers tips, not in percentages(10%/15%/20%), but in amounts ($1/$2/$3). Basically, these swanky very cool looking hipsters have finagled the machine into making me decide between 1) tip 33-100% for filling a cup with ice and delicious coffee, both of which are within arms reach, meaning her very well shoed feet never have to move, OR 2) be a gigantic asshole and smash “NONE”.

The next prompt is for a finger drawn signature, a time in which I always want to draw boobs but it’s 2019 and I’m nearing 30 so I obviously don’t (I want to so bad) and just do the standard squiggly.

They immediately after they flip the iPad screen back their way to look if the machine setting suckered another spineless loser into a tip. I see this person every single day. What if I’m the only one not tipping? Then they not only hate me, but they all share an eye roll or prepare a special cup of coffee for. I can’t live with that stress.

Am I supposed to ask them how to tip a percentage. No chance. Imagine. “Hey can you change this to say 45 cents and not $1. Nooooooooooooooope.

Basically, had I tweeted this blog, I slept ok and was awake just enough to realize that these people are likely making $1,000-$1,500 in tips/day to split between maybe 5 people.

Barista’s are the richest people on Earth. Send Blog.

 

 

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