The Elvis Latte
by AJ Dresser
When I have a bad day, I go to Starbucks and fuck with them. On those days, I refer to the hut as Starfucks. There's a lotta stars out here in LaLaLand, so the name fits on any day, bad or not. There's always some sleezy fucker trying to pull off that he's a bygone 70s TV star or one-hit 80s pop wonder. And there's always some stupid ditz buying his shit lines and following him outta there to his way-outdated used convertible. Truth is, the top's always down because the damn thing got dryrot and he ripped it all off long ago.
So yesterday I got written off the show and decided to take revenge on the still-employed. I went to SF and ordered a double tall skim soy no-whip banana peanut butter latte.
"Name?" she asked, not at all thrown at my bizarre request. Her blase tone strummed the last note of my too-tight nerves. She could've at least pretended to be put out.
"Elvis," I told her. That'll teach her, I thought, quite pleased at my sophomoric humor. I planned to split, leaving her to scream out for Elvis for the next hour. Instead, her eyes widened in shock. Or maybe it was admiration. My head jerked toward the door, looking for a real star. Nope, it was just me wetting her panties. Ryan McCreedy aka Elvis.
She was too young to know that Elvis is dead. But not too young to take home and fuck like the star that I used to be. Ah, fame.
So yesterday I got written off the show and decided to take revenge on the still-employed. I went to SF and ordered a double tall skim soy no-whip banana peanut butter latte.
"Name?" she asked, not at all thrown at my bizarre request. Her blase tone strummed the last note of my too-tight nerves. She could've at least pretended to be put out.
"Elvis," I told her. That'll teach her, I thought, quite pleased at my sophomoric humor. I planned to split, leaving her to scream out for Elvis for the next hour. Instead, her eyes widened in shock. Or maybe it was admiration. My head jerked toward the door, looking for a real star. Nope, it was just me wetting her panties. Ryan McCreedy aka Elvis.
She was too young to know that Elvis is dead. But not too young to take home and fuck like the star that I used to be. Ah, fame.
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Enjoyed reading this piece, Allie.
Damn this is excellent. Love every sentence.
yes, great fun - makes me want to go out into the Big Bad and fuck with someone too.
Woohoo!
Heh, I really dig this. I just watched Best in Show again (or part of it) and saw the preppy couple talking about how they met at Starbucks. Great, great last two lines in particular.
anger and frustration cast in a funny and fun way. liked it a lot.
Lady, you pack a punch!
Like it!
Great usage of the word "fuck"! Dontcha just love fucking with people, when they dont know theyre being fucked? I want more of this. Will be following you.
this makes me want to read e.m.forster to cleanse my mind from vulgarism. wonderful how you're milking the words 'star' and 'fuck'. in these ironic times, an SF starbucks might let you read this out loud on their antiseismic premises and reward you with a windy venti.
"double tall skim soy no-whip banana peanut butter latte" hahahaha. Feisty little piece.
Love the last line. If you ever do decide to read this at an SF Starbuck's, please let me know. I'll be there, Peet's coffee in hand :)
Enjoyed this thoroughly!
There should be an entire collection of stories on moments between the caffeine addled (either through want or excess) and the inspiring baristas who serve them. Ryan McCreedy jerks his head and enjoys a vision of enhanced customer service.
Nothing like coffee and sex to make your day better.
Oh, you had me with 'Starfucks' and I devoured the rest. This is a funny story about the shit side of human behaviour. Hmm ... "it was just me wetting her panties". Ha ha. Very enjoyable - and just the kind of character I love to read about but would never want to meet!