Starbucks mommies have to pinch their pennies too

Possibly because I was trained as a journalist, possibly because I blog about Starbucks and I'm always looking for material for a post - and most likely because I'm just nosy as hell, I stare at people every time I enter a Starbucks. (jeez, I've been staring at Twitter for waaaay too long all day - I almost put a #hashtag in front of that #Starbucks just then).

So it was natural when this little drama happened right in front of me. Please keep in mind that I use the term "drama" to cover "all human interaction and dramatic potential." I really haven't had a good, screaming, hollering, throwing, eating a frappuccino with a spoon drama in a few months. Then again, I haven't had *time* to spend three hours sitting in a Starbucks for that long in about three months.

Whatever. They need to be open all night. Seriously. Then I could chronicle the craziness. Anyway.

I'm in line this morning - taking a mid-morning sanity break because otherwise I will stand up, scream and start throwing things. And I don't even have a good primal scream.

This slatternly coulda-beena-yuppie but was reallya-white-trash mother was in line ahead of me. She had a howler monkey slung over her shoulder. Now, we *all* know how I feel about babies, howler monkeys and children in general. I lump them in with chimpanzees in general - who fling poo as a matter of habit.

This baby is cute, blowing spit bubbles and wearing a flowered atrocity which will undoubtedly be the source of years of therapy upon adulthood and the cause for which the mother will be banished to a nursing home that ties the old people to beds. Parents, let that be a lesson - your children choose where YOU spend your golden years. Sunset Acres? Or Forgotten Sunset Acres? You decide.

Anyway. Mummy Spit Bubbles - despite the fact that she's rolling a raggedy pair of jeans and a faded gray warm-up top - grabs a grande caramel macchiatto and some pastry. Which the baby gets. She pays in cash - and gives me my peek of drama. Because, you know, we love the drama here at Starbucks Drama.

Mummy Spit Bubbles - with the howler monkey in one arm - gets the cash. And proceeds to shiff the baby around on her arm until she can get both hands on the cash.

Whereupon she proceeds to hold her hand out, palm up, over the tip jar.

Whereupon she proceeds to count out all the silver in her palm.

Whereupon she proceeds to push the three pennies she received as change into the tip jar.

And then she shoves the assorted silver back into her grungy jeans and goes over to the handoff bar to wait. With her little bundle of joy still slung over her shoulder and blowing spit bubbles at me.

I watched two baristas giver her one of those eye-rolling *looks* while this little performance was going on. It was quite the production for three cents. I don't *DARE* touch the tip jar, especially after the horror stories and screaming fits I read on starbucksgossip.com. If I need change, I ask the barista to make change out of the register or get them make it out of the tip jar.

DO NOT - ON PAIN OF DEATH - GET BETWEEN A BARISTA AND THE TIP JAR. YOU WILL DRAW BACK A NUB.

Seriously. After watching that, I'm starting to understand why the Old Lady Barista always has such a sour look on her face and forgets my personal tumbler discount. She's just in a craptacular Starbucks.