What does the stench of entitled yuppie smell like?

Ah, the stench of entitled yuppie. I suppose someone has to drive those kids to soccer practice and work in the insurance offices - but the stench of that new Lexus SUV clings to Mr. Boat Shoe like glue.

So does his shitty attitude.

The store has not seen a customer for 45 minutes. After a busy afternoon (it is hot in Florida, and cool inside the Starbucks), the baristas are mopping, cleaning and restocking. I'm typing and eating my chicken vindaloo takeout from Whole Foods (I'll pay the Mexican Heartburn bill later).

One barista is going back and forth with tubs of ice. The other is mopping.

Mr. Boat Shoe walks in and stands at the register and starts to tap his fingers.

When no one leaps to serve him, there's an audible sigh, a pout then glares at the mopping barista who's taken the time to put the mop back in the bucket and come back behind the counter.

There's another sigh when the barista take the time to wash their hands before dispensing two drip coffees.

I suppose if I had had the pleasure of serving Mr. Boat Shoe, I'd have left room for bleach.

I'm particularly reminded of a Foursquare tip at one of my regular Starbucks. It reads simply "Baristas are human beings too." 

Please be nice to your baristas. If you can't tip - not everyone can - then say "please" and "thank you" and don't act like getting your drink within two minutes is the end of the world. It isn't. Karma will ALWAYS get you in the end. 
The stench of entitled yuppie. Marching Onward toward $5 coffee, one latte at a time.