Mitch Albom, America's favorite fun-sized poetastering fabulist, decided to use his Sunday column space in the shrinking Detroit Free Press to whine about America's service workers in the haughtiest fashion possible.
Mitch takes conversations he claims to have had with baristas, waiters, etc., and then he writes petulant things about those interactions.
The Starbucks fellow smiles.
"How can I help you?"
"Medium coffee, room for cream."
He fills a cup. He stares at it.
"Do you want room for cream?" he asks.
Is it just me? Or does no one in the service business listen the first time you speak? It seems that any transaction now requires at least one repeat. Sometimes two. Sometimes the person actually walks away, then comes back and says, "Did you say rye toast or sourdough?"
Mitch Albom just referred to someone as a "Starbucks fellow." Mitch Albom is the absolute worst person. (And, you know, Mitch, we don't all have your ears.) The column proceeds with a few more of these little vignettes, but the best part comes when Mitch gives us a precious "What does this all mean about America?!?!" paragraph: