My Starbucks is my home, my coworkers my family. Our customers can come in with a smile on their faces knowing that their drink has already been started the moment they stepped through the doors, and have the confidence that it will always be made right. The person at the register will greet with the sweet and ominous, “the usual, Bill?” and the exact change has already been made, tip included.
If I had worked anywhere else, I am almost sure that I would hate my job. Not only do I love the customers, but I love the community we’ve built which makes it even semi-bearable at 5 o’clock in the morning. The community in which me and my coworkers depend on. The community who pays our checks. The community that gives us a reason to wake up at such an impossible hour. The community that I am proud to serve coffee to. It’s not always easy, and people are not always nice, but nothing changes the fact that some of us still get up to find ourselves in the usual Starbucks ordering a warm latte on a chilly autumn morning.