Anti-Ode to Starbucks Drive-Thrus
My sister and I sit
Sit
Sit
In the drive-thru on a clear summer day.
The line moves forward.
She leans her head forward to stare
At her phone, scrolling
Through the sounds of the modern day.
The line moves forward.
The shiny silver convertible in front of us stops,
A beep covering up the words the driver must be muttering
At the annoying stragglers blocking the parking lo-
BEEP
The line moves forward.
Small sections of songs repeat.
BEEP
Small sections of songs repeat.
BEEP
The line moves forward.
The rolling up and down of windows all around
Hisses:
Is this really worth it?
For I am not a sluggish scholar in need of caffeine
Or a doctor seeking fuel to work the evening shift.
The line moves forward.
The worker behind the crackly speaker squeaks out
How can I help you?
The line moves forward.
I do not know that
The worker started just the day before.
The worker has not yet perfected their knowledge of the espresso machine
Or the shiny silver cash register.
The line moves forward.
The worker is,
As the small sections of song repeat,
Giving the shiny silver convertible two less dollars than the change they are owed.
The line does not move forward.
A dollar bill drops to the ground having
Slipped from the sweating hands of the worker.
The line does not move forward
Until two dollars are handed over.
The line moves forward.
The worker shoves two plastic cups
To my sister and I,
Stuttering as they slide the glass window shut.
Thank you for coming to Starbucks.
