“Hey, welcome to Starbucks. What can I get for you?”
Answers. You can get me answers.
“Um, okay. What’s up?”
It’s Grateful Dead Day at Starbucks across the country.
I hear no Grateful Dead music.
“Yeah? Yeah. Okay. What?”
It was on the Innertubes this morning–
–that today was Grateful Dead Day at Starbucks. Twitter clearly said that all stores would be playing the Dead, or something like it, all day. You are not playing the Dead.
“No, this isn’t the Dead. This is…Corinne Bailey Rae?”
I thought it was Alicia Keys.
“Wait, it might be Norah Jones.”
Let’s just agree that it is a boring lady, and not a group of exciting men and Mrs. Donna Jean.
Dude, I reported this on my blog. That’s a sacred oath.
“You have a blog? Cool, me too.”
Stay on target. You need to put the Dead on.
“The radio is a computer thing that corporate keeps tabs on.”
Oh, c’mon. Dammit. Fine: just give me a Bobbacinno.
“We don’t have that.”
Then I’ll have a Brentspresso.
“You’re not saying words, man.”
Just give me a coffee, please.
“Cream and sugar?”
No, I take it Branford.