In Brevity: Starbucks?! Starfucks!!
This week Starbucks announced changes to their rewards program. What does it mean?
Don’t worry. I’m here to break it down brevity-style. No, not breve. Starbucks “baristas” don’t know that word.
Why the change? According to Starbucks Newsroom official website it was done “based on the #1 customer request” to have more stars. In other words, you asked for this. Look what you made us do!
In the way back I’d heard about Starbucks stars. I drank there when it was in my face and I wanted coffee so I enthusiastically figured, “What the hell?” I signed up and gave it a try.
Starbucks Thanksgiving
Membership has it’s snivileges. –Ed.
The new gold card’s here! The new gold card’s here! I’m somebody now! Millions of people look at this card every day! This is the kind of spontaneous publicity, your name in print, that makes people. I’m in print! Things are going to start happening to me now.
…
I walked confidently into the corner coffee shop. I got in line and waited a quarter hour. Finally it was my turn. I cleverly placed my order. “I’ll have a chestnut praline latte with a twist. Shaken, not stirred. Make it a grande.” I whipped the gold card out of my camouflage wallet and presented it to the barista. Light from the trendy overhead track lighting reflected and momentarily blinded her. “The name’s Taker. Tom B. Taker.”
Several women in the vicinity immediately swooned and removed their tops. Decisions, decisions.
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The Story Of My Life
Imagine you are a very loyal patron of a restaurant.
It is your routine, on a daily basis, to stop in for lunch and order the “Number Three” special.
You do this every day for a year.
Then, the day after your loyal customer anniversary, you see someone with what appears to be the Number Three. Except it’s different. It has a pickle.
Where the hell did that come from, you think to yourself. You ain’t never seen no pickle on the Number Three. You’re a loyal customer so you decide to ask. That pickle looks damn good and would go well with your customary bit of kibble.
“How do you get the pickle?” you ask like the naive idiot that you are.
That’s when your “friend” on the other side of the counter cheerfully replies, “Oh, the numbered combo specials always come with a pickle.”
MOTHAFUCKA!
That moment of discovery when you realize you’ve been getting screwed and didn’t even know it? That’s the story of my life.
Shouts from the Abyss 
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