The Horror of Starbucks

(written during Writers' Workshop Sophomore year. Written to be envisioned as a stage-play)

Characters
BROOK RYAN – 17. Straight brown hair with dark pink streaks in it. Only child. 5’8. Works at Starbucks. Friends with her coworker, Tiffany.

TIFFANY – 18. Black hair. Lots of eye make up. 5’6. Pretty. Works with Brook at Starbucks.

EMILY – mid 40’s. Very snobbish. Rude. In a very pink suit. Too much make-up.

CHARLES – mid 40’s. Rude. Arrogant. 5’4. Painfully thin. Likes to wear suits.

Setting
Starbucks on the corner of a busy street. Full length windows allowing anybody to see inside.
[Brook and Tiffany are working behind the counter. Brook is manning the cash register while Tiffany makes the drinks. There are a few people drinking tea and coffee at different tables throughout the cafe. The door opens, and EMILY walks in. She gets in line behind a few people. The line moves, semi-slowly and EMILY looks annoyed and continuously fidgets, as if she has somewhere very important to be and this is holding her up. She finally reaches the head of the line.]

BROOK: [Looking politely disinterested.] Hello, ma’am. What can I get for you today?

EMILY: [Impatiently.] You can start by not calling me ma’am. I’m not old. Then you can get me a half-caf, no fat soy late, with just a hint of foam.

BROOK: What size?

EMILY: [Even more impatient now.] Tall. I already told you that.

BROOK: [Rolls her eyes and hits a few buttons on the cash register.] Anything else ma’am?

EMILY: [Shortly] No. That’s it.
‘
BROOK: That’ll be $4.79.

[EMILY pulls out a coach wallet and hands BROOK a five dollar bill.]

EMILY: [Sneering.] Keep the change.

[Brook plasters a sneering smile on her face and reaches for the bill.]

BROOK: [In a sickeningly sweet voice.] Thank you ma’am, you have a nice day.

[EMILY glares at BROOK and then goes and sits down at a corner table, pulls out a computer, and begins to type importantly.]

BROOK: [aside to TIFFANY] What a witch.

TIFFANY: [making EMILY’s drink] Ignore her. She’s not worth it.

BROOK: I guess, but you know how much I hate people like her.

TIFFANY: Yeah, I know, I hate them too, and I’m fuming inside, but that still doesn’t make her worth it.

BROOK: [sighing] True, true.

[TIFFANY finishes the drink and hands it to BROOK, who turns back to the café.]

TIFFANY: [with a fake smile, and mocking tone] Have fun.

BROOK: [Glaring] You take far too much pleasure from my pain. [speaking to the tables] Tall half-caf, non-fat soy latte, with just a bit of foam.

[EMILY ignores the call]

BROOK: [impatient] Tall, no-caf, non-fat soy latte!

[EMILY gets up regally from her seat, walks over and picks up her latte, then returns to her table. BROOK turns to TIFFANY and appears to be about to say something when EMILY take a sip of her latte and spits it back out.]

EMILY: [Enraged] What is this?! [EMILY comes stalking back to the counter as people throughout the café watch in shock.] I told you I wanted a half-caf, no fat soy latte, with just a little bit of foam. [pointing at the top of her drink, which has very little foam] Does this look like a little bit of foam?

BROOK: [looking at the foam, a bit confused] Looks like it to me.

EMILY: Well let me tell you right now it is NOT just a little bit of foam. You need to remake it this instant.

BROOK: [pacifying EMILY] Yes, ma’am I’m sorry. We’ll have it remade.

EMILY: I am not a ma’am!

[BROOK ignores EMILY, takes the latte and throws it out, then proceeds over to TIFFANY]

BROOK: Remake the latte and be sure that there is only a little bit of foam.

TIFFANY: [hands BROOK the finished latte] I know, I heard. Take this one out to her.

[BROOK takes the latte back to EMILY, who is still standing at the counter]

BROOK: Here you go ma’am.

EMILY: [sneering] I hope you did it right this time.

[EMILY again goes back to her table, and BROOK begins to serve the next customer. EMILY again takes a sip, and then spits it back out, and storms back to the counter. BROOK, seeing her coming, takes a deep breath]

EMILY: Are you trying to kill me?!

BROOK: [attempting to sooth her] I’m sorry, ma’am. What seems to be the –

EMILY: [holding out the cup] There is regular milk in this latte! Regular! I specifically asked for soy milk. I am on a very strict diet, and you are giving me regular milk in my latte.

BROOK: Ma’am, I’m sure the milk was soy.

EMILY: [hysterical] This is not soy! I want you to remake it this instant!

[CHARLES shows up behind the counter]

CHARLES: [looking pointedly at BROOK] Is there a problem here, Miss Ryan?

BROOK: [smiling brightly] Not at all, sir, I was just about to remake this woman’s latte.

CHARLES: [talking to EMILY] What appears to be the problem with the latte, miss?

EMILY: [immediately brightening] I was very specific in saying that I wished for my latte to be soy. I am on a very strict diet, and I need soy.

CHARLES: [looking at the latte] Of course. It must be remade immediately. [to the side] Tiffany!

TIFFANY: [looking up] Yeah?

CHARLES: [handing her the late] This needs to be remade. And make absolutely sure that it is made with soy and not regular milk.

TIFFANY: You can’t be serious.

CHARLES: I’m very serious. This latte was not made properly and therefore needs to be remade. [smiling to EMILY] Free of charge.

[TIFFANY and BROOK look at each other, then TIFFANY sighs, takes the latte and goes back to make it again. CHARLES takes EMILY by the arm and begins to lead her back towards her table.]

CHARLES: [talking to EMILY] I am so sorry about this mix up. I can assure you this is a fine establishment and that things like this do not happen very often at all…

[The voices begin to fade, though the audience can still see CHARLES leaning over EMILY’S table and talking to her. TIFFANY and BROOK are talking to each other, while TIFFANY makes the latte]

TIFFANY: Can you believe this? Some people I swear are just completely over the top. Regular milk, not soy? Does she think I’m stupid. Of course I made it with soy milk

BROOK: I know.

TIFFANY: And the way she acts like she’s better than everybody else! God! I hate people like that!

BROOK: I know, but there’s really nothing we can do about it

TIFFANY: [every movement done with angry gestures] Too much foam? Too much foam?! Are you kidding me?!

[TIFFANY jerks her hands in anger, and ends up accidentally dropping the now almost finished latte. BROOK automatically steps in.]

BROOK: Here, let me do that.

TIFFANY: I’m sorry. People like her just make me so mad. I mean one thing wrong is OK, but stalking up here twice. On the stupidest things? I mean, I have a right to be mad don’t I?

BROOK: Of course you do. She’s obviously not someone either you or I would want to know, but there’s nothing you can do. [BROOK finishes the latte and moves back to the counter] I’ll be back.

[BROOK heads over to EMILY’S table where she and CHARLES are still talking. CHARLES looks up, sees BROOK, and stops talking.]

BROOK: [placing the latte in front of EMILY] Here you go ma’am. I’m so sorry for all the trouble.

EMILY: [sticking her nose in the air] Well, you should be. I don’t believe I’ve ever had worse service in my life.

BROOK: [taking a deep breath] I’m very sorry ma’am, I hope this is to your liking.

EMILY: Stop calling me ma’am. I’m not old.

BROOK: Yes, well. Enjoy your drink.

[BROOK walks back to the counter and begins helping customers again. CHARLES disappears back behind the counter again]

BROOK: [to the next customer] Hello sir, how may I help you today?

CUSTOMER: I’d like a green tea, please?

[EMILY rises and begins walking over to the counter]

BROOK: Not a problem. It’ll be-

EMILY: [indignant] It is way too loud in here. I have very important work and this shop is far too loud.

[BROOK and the CUSTOMER look at EMILY in shock]

BROOK: Ma’am, I’m sorry but this is a public place, I have no control over the noise level.

EMILY: I insist that the volume in here be lowered.

BROOK: Ma’am, there is nothing I can do.

EMILY: I pay good money for some service here, and I expected to be treated the right way.

BROOK: Ma’am –

EMILY: Don’t call me ma’am! I have told you a thousand times today. I am not old!

BROOK: [loosing her temper] Fine! Miss, if you could just go sit down and drink your half-caf, no fat, soy late, with just a hint of foam, and let me do my job it would be much appreciated.

EMILY: [sputtering] How… how dare you speak to me in this manner. I am a very imp-

BROOK: Important person. Yes, I know. And right now you are a major pain in my ass. I have re-made your latte, which by the way had nothing wrong with it, three times. I have listened to you act pompous and better than everyone else. And I am telling you now to shut up, sit down and drink your drink, or to please leave. Either way, I don’t really care. Just leave me alone.

EMILY: How dare you! I want to speak to the manager this instant.

CHARLES: [appearing again] And the manager would like to talk to you, Miss Ryan. In my office. Now.

BROOK: Are you kidding me? When this woman –

CHARLES: My office. Now.

[BROOK glares and then stalks towards the back, and through a door. CHARLES watches her go. TIFFANY does the same, with a look of shock plastered to her face. Once BROOK has gotten though the door, CHARLES turns back to the still enraged EMILY]

CHARLES: I am so sorry about this misunderstanding. I can assure you that it is not a regular occurrence. I would love to give you a few coupons to have anything you wish here for free.

EMILY: You can keep them. You can be sure that I will not be frequenting this… place… again.

[EMILY turns regally, collects her possessions, and stalks out the door. The rest of the people in Starbucks watch with shock. CHARLES turns to TIFFANY]

CHARLES: You’re working the counter for the rest of your shift. I will call Jeremy and ask him to come in early.

TIFFANY: What about Brook?

CHARLES: She will not be working here any longer.

TIFFANY: Charles, the woman was horrible. You can hardly blame Brook for losing it.

CHARLES: I can and do, and unless you wish to join her in unemployment, I suggest you help the customers waiting.

[CHARLES turns on his heal, and stalks back through the door.]