As a habit or tradition, before or after my hair appointments in Mariemont (pronounced Mary-Mont) I frequent the Starbucks around the corner for perhaps a doppio or maybe even a tasty caramel macchiato. I know this seems like something of a sell-out, but they do make a consistent drink and provide health care options to many of my part-time barista full-time musician friends, so put that eye of judgment away. I still maintain that CE brews the best coffee in town, but sometimes a girl just needs a shot.

There is something strange about the Starbucks in Cincinnati. One which has exactly 6 parking spots has the most eerily accurate horoscopes posted daily, if not written expressly for me, and then this one. The members of this other particular Starbucks have seen my hair at it’s absolute worst, prior to trim and glam, but also it’s absolute best, perfectly coifed and colored (not streaked, as some not to brilliant conductors claim). On two occasions, members of this place have mocked my hair unnecessarily. Besides the fact that this is just plain mean, it was really uncalled for. So already I’m not a fan, and usually brace myself whenever I enter, but I wasn’t prepared for what our excursion would bring this past trip.

I was asked if I’d wanted my receipt for my scrapbook. Puzzled, I looked back at and asked Mr. Starbucks to repeat himself. He did, asking again if I’d wanted it for my scrapbook. When I laughed it off, he told me that some people are into that. When Ixi ordered her drink, the same scenario. I think the thing that bothers me most about this, besides his poor display of what I hope is sarcasm, is that I can never have a normal experience at Starbucks in Cincinnati. I can travel the world, get the same drink in Philly, Breckenridge, and the Forbidden City, and they all taste identical. It bothers me the oddity that I find at an establishment that prides itself on incongruousness in all aspects. I pay an exorbitant amount to have the same coffee experience no matter which geographical locale I’m in, and I’d like to formally ask Starbucks to not serve my coffee with slightly rude, unnecessary mocking.