Oct 5, 2020 3 min read

It happened again. I walked into Starbucks, donned my mask and ordered my beverage: black, unsweetened iced tea. She must have seen me. She took my order and my credit card, but she continued to jabber to her coworker as if I wasn’t even there.

The barista revealed deep, personal things. I must have been partially invisible, somehow transparent, translucent, or spectral. Was it my face mask? Maybe because she couldn’t see my nose and lips were hidden that she thought I couldn’t hear or see her. She just carried on a what-should-be-private conversation. She had no regard for the fact that a human being – whom she didn’t know – was standing right in front of her as she dropped intimate details.

“My ass is tired,” she said. Then, I learned the who, what, where, how and why of her story. Let’s just say they were things I didn’t think you should do with a stranger during a pandemic, but this is a family newspaper. Also, I don’t want to be judgmental; I missed the first act of this performance piece.

My unsweetened iced tea could not come fast enough. I’m glad I didn’t order a venti pumpkin latte with one pump maple pecan sauce, seven pumps pumpkin sauce, almond milk with light caramel drizzle, light cinnamon sprinkle, light foam, salt topping, autumn sugar topping, extra vanilla powder, extra pumpkin topping with light whipped cream dollop, or something complicated.

Pre-pandemic I used to walk into a busy restaurant and watch the wait staff scurry past me as I stood next to the “Please wait to be seated” sign, but I could deal. I waited patiently … most of the time. At least they didn’t have full-blown conversations as if I wasn’t there. They were too busy.

But I digress, like I do. The oversharing has been happening a lot lately. People have been carrying on private conversations in front of me. A few days ago, the clerk at the grocery store and the bagger had a tête-à-tête. As my groceries went down the conveyor belt, the store employees complained about their mean manager. My Honeycrisp apples did not need to be exposed to that kind of negative energy! What if I had been friends with – or related to – this bad boss?

Side note: My brother fired someone a few days before Christmas – so it was completely plausible that I could be related to this dude.

It turns out I don’t like to be ignored. I realize I sound like the Queen Victoria when I say it out loud, especially because when I say it, I usually say, “We will not be ignored!” and whack them with my scepter, but that’s just me.

For the record, I didn’t go full-on Karen. I didn’t ask to speak to the manager. I didn’t dial 911 and cry, “This barista is ignoring me!” I just took my unsweetened iced tea and walked out. At least, they got the name right on the cup.