Humor

Surviving the Target Starbucks Line

There was distrust from the start—an unspoken but unanimous understanding that something about this situation is wrong.

Before you, a long line snakes through the Target Starbucks, seven people deep, each wrapped in seven layers of impatience.

At the front, you have the relieved patience group. These people have ordered. Their shoulders have dropped, and their faces have softened. They are free.

Next come those in regretful patience. They committed too soon. They’re too far in to turn back, yet nowhere near the finish line. You can see it in their eyes: I should have left when I had the chance.

And finally, your people. The one foot out, one eye on the exit crowd. Checking watches. Shifting weight. Sighing dramatically in hopes that someone kind will notice. They want to be the kind of person who just walks away.

But they won’t.

And then, of course, there’s you. Brewing.

Your mind is crossed. You cannot believe people are ordering coffee while forgetting you too are ordering coffee.

At first, the orders don’t bother you. A black coffee? Fine. A latte? Acceptable.

Then come the problem people.

The woman ordering for her husband. Lazy bastard. That’s two drinks in one turn.

The customizers. The “extra hot” people, as if that means anything. The “half oat, half almond, but light foam” people. The ones who simply cannot let the drink be what it is. Every modification adds time, and every second spent is a second you are not leaving Target.

One by one, they get their drinks while you stand there, watching. Waiting.

And then, finally, it’s you.

The barista—if you can even call  a teenager that—is a husk of a man. His soul left his body sometime around noon. Now, he’s just a set of hands attached to a Target-branded apron.

“Welcome to Starbucks,” he says, dead-eyed. “What’ll it be?”

You clear your throat.

“Just a small thing,” you say, voice light with the faint optimism before the moment you lie.

His expression softens slightly.

“Just a black coffee,” you say, loud enough for the line to hear.

You feel it—that quiet nod of approval, the collective relief that you have taken one for the team.

But then.

“…can I also get a large extra foamy caramel oat milk chai latte? And can you sub—”

You don’t even have to finish. The barista already knows. You have just nailed both his and your coffin shut.

He stares at you with the dead, empty eyes of a man who has lost all faith in humanity.

“That’ll be $12.70.”

But sympathy quickly turns to outrage.

Twelve dollars and seventy cents? For two beverages? You glance around, desperate for someone to join you in your horror, but all you see are the judgmental eyes of the very people who once stood beside you.

You take your receipt and shuffle to the waiting area, where your spouse is still basking in the sugar afterglow of a Target shopping spree.

“Why do you look so glum?” she asks.

“What are you talking about?” you mumble, avoiding eye contact.

You cannot stand yourself. And you know the line can’t stand you either.

Finally, after five long minutes, your drink arrives.

You grab it quickly, avoiding eye contact with the others in line—people who, moments ago, were just like you. Miserable. 

You hand your spouse her drink. She takes one sip and immediately recoils.

“This is wrong,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “Can you get back in line?”

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37 thoughts on “Surviving the Target Starbucks Line”

  7. I know one thing . . . I wouldn’t be getting back in that line. 🤣😆😂

    This is so true:

    “The barista—if you can even call a teenager that—is a husk of a man. His soul left his body sometime around noon. Now, he’s just a set of hands attached to a Target-branded apron.

    “Welcome to Starbucks,” he says, dead-eyed. “What’ll it be?”’

    And Target is turning into Walmart. I’m avoiding them at almost every cost these days. 😩😫🥺

    Reply

  8. And the one to two registers open and then self checkout only?! The way they’ve been getting overly-crowded lately?! No, thank you. Target will soon not be getting my money, either. It’s getting outta control.

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  9. I hope you didn’t? Now tell me she wanted the extra-foamy caramel bit on the side, because not everybody likes it on the coffee? Lol. Hope your week’s improving! 🙂 🙂

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  13. Too funny … I read this early this morning while I was on my break. I work at Starbucks (this is my post retirement, need some extra cash, part time gig).
    Before I worked at a regular Starbucks, I worked at the one in Albertsons. Starbucks within stores like that or at the airport are called License Stores. They suck to work at. If you ever wanted to know what it means to be deserted on an island with sharks swimming around you … Work at one of those stores. The upside? I can make a Caramel Ribbon Crunch with my eyes closed. I still have PTSD from that day….
    Seriously though. Even regular Starbucks have those long line moments. They’re usually at the drive through window and it’s typically caused by something as ridiculously stupid as someone forgot to make mocha.
    Although … One day, just as the customer at the drive through window was about to hand me his credit card, a car on the road next to the store, plowed into a guy on a motorcycle. I was dumbstruck. The customer was confused by my reaction until the person in his passenger seat starting shouting what was happening. My customer leapt out of his car and ran to the scene to help out. It was a good thirty minutes before he came back to move his car.
    No … Starbucks is never a dull moment…

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  16. Good golly (excuse my French). I remember my dumb sister taking her two young’ens to Starbucks. We waited in line (and this in a mid-sized town btw), and the kids kept changing their order. Now, I like kiddos. No, I do, but these spoiled brats worked their way up from a light order to a high-dollar order by finessing my sis. Wow. Ok, this says more about me than her. I’m totally the AH here, but this is what you got out of me today (laughs cheerfully like a rogue).

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  17. Oh gosh. You just struck a nerve. I hope you don’t mind sharing my own stressful exchange with a new barista, early, early this morning at my local “special treat” place, where there was no line, no waiting. The interaction went like this:

    Barista at the counter: “Dine in or take-out?”
    Me: Take out.
    Barista: What’s your phone number?
    Me: Why do you need that?
    Barista: For takeout orders.
    Me: ….I’ve never been asked for my phone number to order coffee before?
    Barista (slamming the tablet around to face me and demanding): “You enter it.”
    Me: …um… (blinky, blinky, blink) ….No? (turning around, fleeing the scene.)

    So I guess I was a “just walk away” person.

    I really like the way you set your scenes that take place in everyday business transactions with the internal and external dialogue.

    Reply

  21. So good! I live in a remote area and only ever get inside a Target maybe once a year- perhaps that’s why I find the Starbucks inside the Target story doubly interesting and amusing. I wonder, would I order a coffee after shopping? I think I might get overstimulated!😂

    Reply

  22. Not a Starbucks person, but I loved this! I put myself in your position and, well, the outcome was a bit different. When my wife asked me to get back in line, all I could think of was… “Where can I hide a body?”

    Reply

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