Most mornings, when I’m too lazy to brew it myself, I stop at Starbucks. It’s not that I’m a fan of Starbucks (I think ya’ll know my favorite latte, where the foam is sublime), it’s really about proximity and convenience. It’s on my walk to the el.
Everyone at that particular Starbucks is great. They are friendly and cheerful (not too cheerful), they remember me and my order. They are efficient. They get the job done. And manage to not annoy me before I’ve ingested caffeine.
Except one barista. Who is nice. Who seems a bit timid. Who smiles. Who speaks in a soft voice. Who irritates me. Inexplicably, grates on my nerves. I feel impatience rising in me when I realize he’s the one at the counter.
This barista has never done anything wrong. Never messed up an order, never taken too long. He’s perfectly fine. I just, chemically, have a reaction to him that fills me with annoyance.
Then one morning I realized what it was. He reminds me of someone I once dated. Someone who, initially I thought was as a nice guy, and this was my attraction to him. I then started to realize, it wasn’t so much that he was nice, it was that he was passive. And nice, well, it is the path of least resistance. It is the easier, lazier, safer choice. His passivity quickly became repulsive to me. Which in term made me a bit nasty to him. Which made him a bit whiny towards me. Which repulsed me more. Do you see the horrible cycle?
He wasn’t a bad guy. But with him, I was a bitch. And generally I’m often too nice for my own good.
So this poor barista, with the soft voice and the doughy face, well, I’m trying to not be unreasonably annoyed with him. I mean, he’s not to blame for my dating past. But really, it’s too much to process before I’ve had my coffee.
Everyone at that particular Starbucks is great. They are friendly and cheerful (not too cheerful), they remember me and my order. They are efficient. They get the job done. And manage to not annoy me before I’ve ingested caffeine.
Except one barista. Who is nice. Who seems a bit timid. Who smiles. Who speaks in a soft voice. Who irritates me. Inexplicably, grates on my nerves. I feel impatience rising in me when I realize he’s the one at the counter.
This barista has never done anything wrong. Never messed up an order, never taken too long. He’s perfectly fine. I just, chemically, have a reaction to him that fills me with annoyance.
Then one morning I realized what it was. He reminds me of someone I once dated. Someone who, initially I thought was as a nice guy, and this was my attraction to him. I then started to realize, it wasn’t so much that he was nice, it was that he was passive. And nice, well, it is the path of least resistance. It is the easier, lazier, safer choice. His passivity quickly became repulsive to me. Which in term made me a bit nasty to him. Which made him a bit whiny towards me. Which repulsed me more. Do you see the horrible cycle?
He wasn’t a bad guy. But with him, I was a bitch. And generally I’m often too nice for my own good.
So this poor barista, with the soft voice and the doughy face, well, I’m trying to not be unreasonably annoyed with him. I mean, he’s not to blame for my dating past. But really, it’s too much to process before I’ve had my coffee.
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