Delusions Of Grandé Part 3: The 13 Most Annoying People At Starbucks

For the last eight years, I’ve been using Starbucks as office space. The details of how that happened will have to come later. All you need to know is that I’ve pretty much seen every type of weirdo come and go, although more often than not, they stay. I’ve written about these weirdoes in my other posts, so for this one I’m switching gears to customers who just flat out annoy the shit out of me. I’m going to warn you right now that I’m in a pissy mood, so I’m not sugar-coating shit. I’m just gonna jump right into this list.

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I don’t have anything against lonely old women, but my problem with this woman is that she cracks the same joke. Every. Fucking. Time. I know this because I’ve seen her tell it to anyone stupid enough to humor her. In other words, me. When I ask her if she has any new jokes, she goes deadpan, looking at me like I’m crazy. To make matters worse, her joke always comes out of the blue. No segue. No introduction. She just jumps in while the water is cold: “What do you call the useless piece of skin on a dick?” That’s her shtick. A fucking dick joke. So she isn’t just lonely and old, she’s nasty. Anyway, here’s the punch-line that’s supposed to KO me every time. What do you call the useless piece of skin on a dick? “The man,” she says.

No, he doesn’t have dirty dick jokes. Just a pair of funky-ass socks that he casually airs out after kicking off his shoes and sitting around in the comfy chair like the place is his personal fucking living room.

Every barista can tell you about the guy who comes in and just sits and broods, sometimes for hours, without buying anything. Sure these guys are harmless, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t creepy. Look at this psychopath sitting in front of me. Look at him! He just plopped down at my table and got down to some heavy-ass brooding. He must have felt me looking at him because his eyes snapped forward and locked onto to mine. Sweet Jesus, that scared the shit out of me. After that, it was over; he just kept looking at me. All I could do was turtle my neck, adjust my laptop monitor and pretend I couldn’t feel his eyes boring holes into my skull.

I know this shit isn’t supposed to be funny, but when a brotha in a wheelchair tells a clumsy barista “if I still had my legs, I’d kick your ass,” it’s hard not to laugh. Anyway, that shit was rude, so he goes on the list.

I saw the HBO documentary on these guys. These motherfuckers are scary. I'm outta here.

Look at this potbelly piss-monkey on his phone. He's closing the deal of a lifetime. The future of the free world as we know it depends on this call. How do we know this? Because he's pacing back and forth in front of two college girls and a Frappuccino ad, that's how. Something big is going down. Shit just got real, yo.

This inconsiderate piss-monkey plopped next to me at 6am, when Starbucks was supposed to be empty and peaceful, and started shouting into my ear while on his cellphone. Let me say this: this man needs to go to his nearest police precinct and thank them for their service, because the law is the only thing that keeps me from choking the shit out of people like him. Serenity, Ahmad. Serenity.

I’ll confess that this one just stems from the sheer bitterness of being an unsuccessful artist. But all failure aside, few things bite me in the ass more than pretentious artists talking about “transcending space and time” and the “theoretical limits of juxtaposing metaphors” or whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean. Bring that artsy-algebra bullshit to my Starbucks and I’m theatrically juxtaposing the back of my hand against your face. Just sayin’.

If you are a parent with a small child you might as well just skip this entry, because I’m probably going to piss you off. Why? Because nothing would bring me more satisfaction than to snatch your screaming maniac child right in the middle of one of his tantrums and kick a fucking field goal with the little bastard. I’d donate the extra points to the Buffalo Bills, then finish drinking my coffee. Holy fuck, my day would be so much better if I could just do that one thing.

This cat hangs around a Starbucks in Little Italy. Yeah, yeah, yeah, she’s cute. But she tried to piss on my foot, so fuck her.

Fuck this napkin. No, seriously. This is a serious pet peeve of mine. See how I’m all serious and shit in the below illustration? See how I’m brooding and shit? That’s because I’m wondering what the fuck is wrong with people. Why do people always leave their nasty-ass shit on the table? What’s so hard about standing your lazy ass up and throwing this nasty shit away? Lord only knows what the fuck is in the napkin. Chewed up food? Saliva? Snot? The only person who has the answers to this mystery left this nasty shit for me to clean up. Why do they do this? Why?

The number two most annoying person at Starbucks is my wife, the Polish communist vegan and ruthless price-haggler, even for a cup of fucking coffee. Of course, she never just orders a simple cup of coffee, she orders a “tall blonde in a grandé cup, leaving 1/3 of the room for heated soymilk, but no foam.” God help us all if the price comes up even a penny more than what she expected to pay. If you’re standing behind her when this happens, trust me, it’s not worth it. Just leave. You, at least, have that option. I don’t. Not without a divorce lawyer. So yeah, just go. There’s probably another Starbucks a few blocks away.

According to my wife, I’m the most annoying person at Starbucks. I'm cranky, loud and never know when to just shut the fuck up. We got into an argument once right in front of a barista. I don’t remember what I said to her, I just remember that she told me—and I quote—“keep talking shit, Ahmad; I want you to earn this ass whoopin’.”