Starbucks Drama: Skinny Drinks for Skinny Boys with Skinny Brains

The contradictions and mental issues of Starbucks customers will forever baffle me. For starters, there are the types that order black coffee but then grab a 500 calorie muffin and load the coffee with milk, cream, sugar and chocolate powder. Others are far, far worse. To wit.

This one rolled in Saturday night, one of the urban hipsters who flock to Starbucks like moths to a flame, frat boys to a sorority kegger or snowbirds to a 4 p.m. "Early Bird" special at Red Lobster.

A skeletal white boy, wearing skinny jeans, with that stone-wash denim look and baby blue American Eagle T-shirt comes to the counter and orders a tall skinny cinnamon dolce latte. These only have 90 calories (grande goes to 130, venti to 160), and are "allegedly" complete with all the flavor of the regular, full-calorie cinnamon dolce lattes, but sans all the calories.

The skinny cinnamon dolce latte comes with sugar-free Cinnamon Dolce syrup and non-fat milk. By contrast, a regular tall cinnamon dolce latte has 290 calories, 14 grams of fat and 30 grams of sugar. Having had one, I can also attest to the fact that they taste like dishwater - rancid dishwater that has been sitting in the sink for three weeks. If you're going down to the the skinny drinks after drinking the good stuff, it tastes like weak smack.

Anyway. Our pretty boy, in the distressed skinny jeans and distressed baby blue American Eagle tee that looks like it may have been cropped to show off a sliver of his toned stomach, wants a skinny cinnamon dolce latte. It doesn't come with whipped cream, although he confirms this with the barista. He looks like like the type to get manorexia.

Pretty Boy Blue, who I noticed is wearing mandals, hovers over the barista as she makes it. He asks her "Can you make that with soy milk?" Maybe he's a milk freak? I dunno.

He gets the drink and goes over to the condiment bar. Where he proceeds to take off the lid and sprinkle the drink with heretofore "skinny" drink with chocolate powder.

He tastes it, grimaces and then goes to sit outside to talk with other bright young things.  Not for long though. He's back inside after two sips.

Pretty Boy Blue comes to the handoff bar and asks the barista making drinks "Can you put whip cream on this?"

She gives him one of "those" looks, like "THAT IS A SKINNY DRINK. WHIPPED CREAM DEFEATS THE PURPOSE!"

Nevertheless, she snatches the cup off the bar with a fierce, almost angry motion, reaches out a taloned claw for the silver aerosal can of whipped cream, gives it an angry shake and unfurls a mountain of whipped cream of prodigious proportions onto the drink.

Pretty Boy Blue's eyes goggle at the mound of sugary goodness now floating serenely atop his previously low-calorie drink. The enormous load of whipped cream on there probably doubled, if not tripled the calorie load.

For a prissy calorie-counter like this Pretty Boy Blue, who eats protein in lieu of carbohydrates, eschews beer for martinis and probably shaves his chest, this was a problem. Of his on making, no less.

He opened his mouth to complain - gets a dirty look from the barista, who is still holding the can of whipped cream and just might clock him across the head with it. Plus, I'd put money on her in a fight. He might break a nail or muss up his hair or something. She'd just claw his eyes out.

Pretty Boy Blue promptly shuts his mouth, grabs a stirrer and makes a production of breaking up the mountain of whipped cream and melting and stirring it into his drink. He does all of this at the handoff bar instead of back at his table.

The taloned barista is unmoved by this display of potion-making talent. She must have a bit of the Severus Snape in her.

Thirty seconds later, the whipped cream has been disseminated into the hot and no longer skinny cinnamon dolce latte. Pretty Boy Blue snaps the lid back on the drink and heads out the door to rejoin the bright young things with which he's conversing, to talk of life, of love, of mandals and face creams and undoubtedly of cranky Starbucks baristas.