All I Want is a Cup of Coffee

Given that I have already established how difficult it is to get a cup of coffee at McDonalds, when I was up in Ojai the other day watching Queen of Spain and Undomestic Diva decide on their latest tattoos, I decided to visit a locally owned coffee shop for my iced coffee.

Java & Joe. That should have been a tip-off. Java AND Joe? Aren't those both nicknames for coffee? Why AND? Why not either Java OR Joe? But no.

Being an excellent, ecologically conscious-type person, I sat my stainless steel togo cup on the counter and ordered my iced coffee from the stocky blonde woman.

"That's a 16 ounce cup," I said, helpfully. I always try to be helpful. Because I am so excellent.

"Looks like 18 ounces to me!" said the lady, turning to get my coffee.

I stared at her back in disbelief. This coffee wench was busting my chops over two ounces of coffee. It wasn't like I brought in a 64-ounce Big Gulp and insisted it was six ounces.

"Well," I said with my voice all clipped and tight. "It says 16 ounces on the bottom of the cup, so that's what I have always gone by. Bitch." (Ok, I didn't say "bitch," but it was definitely implied and right there below the surface.)

So what did she do? She PICKED UP my cup and looked at the bottom. To check on me. Over TWO ounces of coffee.

The bottom of the cup is black rubber and the 16 oz. mark is tiny and dang, she looked like an idiot peering at it.

She gave me my coffee. Then the kicker.


Over the years, the rubber grippy thing around the cup has slid up, and it ain't coming down. It is tight on the cup and immoveable to me.

"The rubber thing on your cup is in the wrong place," said Blondie. "It REALLY bothers me."

You know what bothers ME? Bad customer service! Like questioning your customers over two ounces of coffee and shaming them over a stupid coffee mug! But hey, thanks for this excellent experience! Next time, I'll be at one of the eight other coffee places in town!

What a world, what a world.

Product review: McCafe, um I mean Latte

The scene: Exit 253 McDonalds, Highway 55, Joliet, Illinois. 2 pm Sunday July 26

There I was. Tired. Decaffeinated. Desperate. I knew the nearest Starbucks was about 4 long miles away and I needed to check into my motel and relax, but first my screaming empty neuroreceptors needed coffee.

Thus, McDonald's. I had been seeing their McCafe bus billboards for the past months advertising their $1.69 iced coffee.

Usually I only go to McDonald's to use the restroom, figuring that eating there every single day of my teen life had paid for the occasional road-trip pit stop, but in this case I was willing to make an exception because I needed mah coffee!

Brittany: WelcometoMcDonaldsmayIhelpyou?
Suebob: Is your iced coffee sweetened?
(I asked because Starbuck's default iced coffee is sweetened. Ugh.)
Brittany: We have sweet tea.
Sue: But the iced coffee isn't sweetened?
Brittany: The latte is sweet.
Sue: (realizing I needed to change tactics): I'll have an iced coffee.
Brittany: Iced tea?
Sue: Iced coffee
Brittany: Latte?
Sue: No, ICED COFFEE
Brittany: Madison, where's the button for iced coffee?
(Madison ignores her).
Brittany: Where's the button for iced coffee????
Madison: Right here. Where it always is.
(Oh, SNAP!)
Brittany: Do you want cream?
Sue: Yes.
Brittany: What kind of syrup?
Sue: No syrup. Just iced coffee.
Brittany: With cream?
Sue: Yes, cream, no syrup.

(waiting)

My drink came. It was a big milky latte, sweetened, with whipped cream on top. I had to wait while Brittany finished screwing up someone else's order.

Sue: Ummm, this isn't iced coffee.

All motion behind the counter stopped as everyone glared at me.

Sue: Please. I want. A cup. With ice in it. With coffee. And milk. That is it. Cup, ice, coffee, milk. Iced coffee.

Three minutes later I had what I wanted. The whole transaction had taken 10 minutes and set me back $1.69. The coffee wasn't bad. But next time? Dunkin' Donuts.