T has a meeting in Lincoln today and I'm tagging along. I head to a Starbucks while she goes to her meeting.
This is a real college hangout. What a shock. I'm amazed at the summer garb on everyone. If I didn't know and had to guess, I'd say it was June or even July. The guys are in silky baggy shorts and tee shirts mostly with Cornhusker or band logos. The women (I start writing "girls" instead of women, but that seems wrong, so I stick with "women", even though they all look about fourteen years old to me...) wear short skirts or shorts and tee shirts, mostly with sayings on them. Some are really clever and I have to read quickly so it doesn't look as if I am some granny squinting at their chests. Here are just a few of the sayings, my favorites:
1) I'm not arguing. I'm just explaining why I'm right.
2) Boys Lie
3) I can't adult today. Please don't make me adult.
4) Cleverly disguised as a responsible adult.
5) You share 50 percent of your genes with a banana. Get over yourself.
It is only March. Why is everyone in beach clothes? I sit alone at my table after I take a WET ONES out of my purse and wipe it down. I know exactly who I look like in my black jeans, plain long sleeved blue tee shirt, and old lady sneakers. If there are any doubts, one only has to look at my gray hair and cane.
I am clearly someone's grandma visiting from a farm. In other words, I am invisible. When asked for my name by the barista, I hesitate and then just say "Ida Mae." If the damn shoe fits, wear it.
So, sitting next to me is a scantily clad young lady in jean shorts, a very snug Cornhusker tee shirt and red flip flops. In my day, we called them "thongs," That is a very far off base word to use for shoes now. The name on her coffee cup says "Aubrey." I immediately wonder if she is named for Bread's song, "Aubrey." I don't ask her, though. She probably has no idea who Bread was. The whole hour and a half that we sit side by side, she never stops typing on her laptop. My kind of student.
To my left, it sounds as if a job interview is going on. A woman in a Starbucks shirt and cap is asking questions of another woman who clearly has not been properly vetted on how to dress for a job interview. She wears tight skinny jeans, a HOOTERS tee shirt and blue sandals. Her hair is up in a messy bun, held together by wooden chopsticks.
The Starbucks woman asks her why she wants to work here.
Chopsticks: Well, I have my apps out at every coffee place in Lincoln. Plus, my friend, Angie, worked here before she got pregnant and went back to Montana.
I am already rolling my eyes. I would not hire Chopsticks. She's supposed to lie and say that she LOVES Starbucks, that her favorite drink is a skinny vanilla latte and that she is kind of a workaholic. That her friends tease her that she loves to work more than play.
Starbucks: Have you ever worked at a coffee house before? Your application says that you have waitressing experience?
Chopsticks: Yeah. Well, I worked at HOOTERS for a while. I figure if I can work there, I can work anywhere!
Starbucks: Why is that?
Chopsticks: (holds up jazz hands) Well, let's just say that I could carry a tray of beers and not drop them when some guy would get handy.
This is going so very wrong on so many levels. I am impressed with the interviewer, though. Her facial expression never waivers from polite interest.
Starbucks: Is that why you left HOOTERS? It says that you only worked there for...let's see...two and a half months.
Chopsticks: No. I left because I moved in with my boyfriend and he was like from this mega rich family and didn't want me to work. He said he was afraid that I'd go around seducing men if he wasn't around. So, I quit for him. And then last week, he informs me that he has met somebody else named Bella and that I have to move out! She isn't even remotely cute and she's an English major and wears Harry Potter glasses! Like, gag me.
I have to stop myself from openly staring. I am THAT surprised. Good lord, does she really think she'll get this job? Obviously Starbucks agrees with me because she smiles grimly and tells Chopsticks that this is enough. She thanks her for her time and says in a non committal voice that they'll be in touch.
Chopsticks: So, when do I start?
Starbucks: Um, we're just interviewing applicants this week. We'll let you know by next week if we want to pursue this further.
Chopsticks is a slow learner. She says, "So, do I have to learn to make like EVERYTHING? Like drinks and foods?"
Starbucks says again that they'll be in touch. She stands up and puts her hand out to shake Chopstick's hand. Chopsticks stares for a beat and finally stands up, too. They shake hands. Chopsticks sashays (and yes, I mean SASHAYS) to the door and waves an enthusiastic BYE! BYE! at the door. Starbucks waves backs soberly and then turns and says something to a male barista at the counter. They both burst out laughing.
I don't think Chopsticks got the job.
I settle back and eavesdrop on a few other conversations, but they are too boring to merit writing down.
Time to call it a day at the Lincoln Starbucks.