Waaaay back in the Stone Ages, otherwise known as when I was in high school, I briefly worked in a fast food restaurant. I. HATED. IT. It took exactly two weeks for me to figure out that I would have preferred a career as a professional medical experiment subject. Seriously, I would enjoy experimental lobotomies, pupil transplants, and having someone test how many punches to the gut it takes until you puke WAY more than working that drive-thru window. Not. My. Thing. It lasted the full summer because I'm a committed sort of girl, but WOW did I hate it.

So, I have total and complete sympathy for anyone who does that job, and nothing but admiration for anyone who seemingly enjoys it. When I encounter someone that seems to actually LIKE working a drive-thru, I turn into the aliens from Toy Story, "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah." Mesmerized.

And yet, here I sit, with a complaint letter drafted because of a little streak of events at a drive-thru. I can't seem to send the letter because I'm a wee bit worried I'm being a nut case. So, I ask y'all . . . what would you do?

OK, so I said I was quitting Starbucks to help cover Alexis' gymnastics lessons. That lasted all of three days, I do believe. I'm sure you're shocked. Starbucks was calling my name WAY too loudly, so I'm back to doing my part to keep the economy stable. A few times a week I slide out of the office for a quick liquid lunch in the form of a Cinnamon Dolce Latte (my new obsession thanks to the discount for using a registered gift card). Since I positively HATE waiting in line when I'm trying to do a quick trip, I don't leave the office until 1:30 or 2:00. Works every time. There is seldom so much as one other soul at my Starbucks (yes, I own it).

So, earlier this week I ventured over to Starbucks and oddly enough, there was actually another vehicle in front of me. As I patiently sat waiting for my yummy drink, I was fidgeting with the coin holder. I was battling a penny, trying to convince it that it would fit in there with all the other change, when out of the corner of my eye I saw a Spaniel puppy traveling from the barista's arms into the car in front of me. Yes, a Spaniel puppy was in the Starbucks and then was handed out of the drive-thru window to the vehicle. I didn't see any signs saying that they are running a "Buy a Chai, Get a Spaniel" deal, so I assume the pup started out in the vehicle, got handed in, petted a few times, and headed back out. Whatever.

I got over my confusion on that one.

But! Apparently it is Take Your Pup to Starbucks Week here in the Burgh! Today as I sat waiting behind an SUV, I realized they had a Black Lab pup. Immediately I groaned to myself, but then I realized that Peppy Chick wasn't the one working the window that day (she's a super happy kind of lady who very obviously loves her job--she was the one that handed the Spaniel out the window).

No worries.

I stopped thinking about it a few moments later when a little classic Depeche Mode came on the radio. At precisely 1:41pm I reached down and turned up the volume so I could jam for a second. As I glanced up, I saw the barista handing a grande cup out the window. Except, there was no lid on the cup. And there was a heck of a lot of whip cream in the cup. And she wasn't handing it to the driver. Nope! The whip cream-filled cup was tilted towards the Lab pup and he or she promptly started slurping up a whole lotta calories. And slurping. And slurping.

It took the Pup six minutes to finish the whip cream. Annoyance had started to set in. Hello! Drive-thru! In hurry!

Whatever.

I prepared to pull forward, assuming that annnnnny second now things would get going.

NOPE!

It was time for more dog-petting, another cup of whip cream, and ANOTHER SEVEN MINUTES OF WAITING.

When the Black Lab toting SUV finally pulled away with some human-intended beverages, it was 1:59pm. 1:59pm! One car in front of me, and I waited 18 minutes to get to the window. Then! Then! My drink still wasn't made because apparently the entire store was taking part in the whip cream adventures. That part I pieced together from the conversations that were going on inside the little window. Anyway, I finally pulled away with my drink at least 22 minutes after I pulled up (this I know for Depeche Mode and the car clock told me so). In the middle of the afternoon with only one other customer in sight.

So, would you be mad? Or just load up the dogs and go get you some of that Starbucks lovin'?

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We're donating all September ad revenue to the Flight 93 Memorial Fund, and could use a little help in reaching our goal. Every little click gets us closer, so why not take a second and find out why I won't drink my true Starbucks love, the Pumpkin Spice Latte?