I hate the pretentious starbucks guy...

Could anything be more painful than listening to this guy while waiting to pay $2 for your morning coffee? He's always there, isn't he, boorishly waxing academic to his research sponsor about some random protein casing that he's about to isolate. It's tough not to lean over from the line and ask him if by wearing the coffee shirt he was trying to be cute or just actively exercising his virginity.

He's painful to listen to and you're embarrassed for him until you realize your blood pressure is pegged to the roof having only been in line for 15 seconds. 30 seconds in to your coffee run you're looking around to see if other eyeballs have spun back in their heads -- no luck, everyone is on a cell phone. By the time you place your order, the frustration is overwhelming and you crumble under pressure ordering a "medium" only to be corrected by the alt/rock cashier, "You mean 'mezzo'?" The cashier immediately rats you out to the barista with a telling, spit-in-this-guy's cup glance. For a brief moment, you've actually forgotten about the pretentious loud mouth until he taps you on the shoulder, excuses himself past you and asks the barista by name for a refill. Not your day. Tomorrow you'll get coffee at the gas station.