Chai vs. Iced Chai: What is the difference?

Sometimes, I can't tell if I'm just attuned to the stupid - or if the stupid is just more prevalent. Case in point - the chai lady.

I'm standing in a LONG line on Monday afternoon. I must have hit the store at a mini-rush when people were just getting off work or something. There are only two partners - one on register and one on bar.

I don't get antsy - I'm not in any hurry. Today is my day off - I just want to get a drink, sit and read. My only REAL concern is that the spring breakers in front of me don't grab a comfy chair.

I was also rewarded with a sighting of Fake Margaret Hamilton - whom I tweeted about a few days ago. I think she's a foreign tourist of some sort - she speaks with a heavy accent, possibly Germanic. She also wears short-shorts and drives a rented LandCruiser like a bat out of hell. Last time, she got two shots of espresso and knocked them off like literal shots. Today, she did three shots over ice in a short cup and took off out the door. I love her - and her haircut. I just want to go up to her and scream "I'm MELTING!"

However, it soon becomes apparent to me just WHY the line is backed up like the toilet at a fat camp on chocolate cake night.

There's a woman. Pink shirt, khakis, no brain cells. None. Zero. Zilch. Zero. Classic WOACA - that's "woman of a certain age" for all you beginner's out there. I coined it when I was writing "Behind the Counter," the late, much lamented chronicle of my servitude behind the service desk at Wal-mart. The archives are still online at bbcamerican.blogspot.com.

ANY-WAY.

Our girl Pinkalicious decides to play 20 Questions. One of my favorite pastimes. Drink the sarcasm. Drink it deep. DEEP. KEEP DRINKING!

Now, I don't want to impugn on those of you who don't have a deep coffee education. I'm all for asking questions - whether or not there's a line behind you. You are as entitled as the next person to the barista's time.

Courtesy might dictate that you make a decision at SOME POINT, but if you're truly indecisive, please continue. I'm a little more forgiving than some people if you've happened to make it forty-something years without venturing inside a Starbucks and cannot fathom to look on the Internet to discover the difference between a mocha, a cappuccino and an Americano. I mean, those photos of adorable cats with captions won't look at themselves will they? Because that's what most WOACAs look at on the Internet. That, and Farmville.

Anyway. I too was once confused by the mocha vs. cappuccino divide. I discovered Google. Please educate yourself. Or got to a LOCAL COFFEE SHOP, where they will be very happy to do it for you - and even more happy to see your business.

Inquiring about the types of coffees available is perfectly fine. So is a trial balloon about soy milk. Questions about Vivannos are acceptable as well, although a bit suspect, as Starbucks conducted an enormous PR & marketing campaign in support of Vivanno a few years ago. How did you miss it?

But however.

However.

However.

HOW-EV-ER.

"What's the difference between chai and iced chai?" - and we don't mean calories - is not acceptable. She never asked about calories during the entire conversation - so I KNOW BEYOND A SHRED OF DOUBT that it wasn't about calories.

At this point - I'm wondering how you manage to get out of bed, walk to the bathroom, shower, go downstairs, feed yourself, proceed to work and earn a living each day.

After all this, Pinkalicious ordered to drop coffees and a slice of marble pound cake. Most of the line was ready to mutiny and start throwing packages of Tribute blend at her - one woman even throw two pounds of coffee in a basket and walked out in a huff after muttering under her breath "This s*** isn't worth it."

I broke a $20 bill just to have cash to give the barista on duty a tip for dealing with the woman. Seriously. There was no excuse for such stupidity.

It reminds me of a similar experience over the weekend.

I was with a friend - a non-Starbucks person who says "one of them frozen things" when she means a frappuccino and I always translate it for her at the register. I'm nice like that.

I was extolling the virtues of Cake Pops - breaking it down by color, flavor and telling her "it is cake on a stick - you have to try it." I *really* sold the Cake Pops (I love those things) - we stared at them for a little while while we were in line and wound up getting two.

There was a woman behind us who practically stuck her head into the middle of the conversation. Any closer and she'd have been standing in between us.

After we ordered, got the Cake Pops and moved away, the woman behind us - who'd eavesdropped on every word of the conversation, including my DETAILED breakdown of Tiramisu vs. Birthday Cake vs. Rocky Road and why I don't like Rocky Road because it "has too much stuff, says to the barista - "so, what are Cake Pops?" I hate stupid people.

Seriously, there some people should not be allowed to breed. Birth control in the water, with mandatory testing before you are allowed to procreate.

I just simply do not understand the stupidity of mankind.