The Whitest Girl Coffee You Know, Part 2

You know, I have to admit it.  I love having fun with Starbucks baristas.  I've done it before, and I did it again.  To know what I am talking about, check out my first post about my Starbucks misadventures.

http://angjellockheart.blogspot.com/2016/08/the-whitest-girl-coffee-you-know.html

The day started out kind of mixed.  You see, it was day two of my Dad and I heading to West Virginia to attend my Grandmother's (his Mother) funeral service.  We had just crossed into West Virginia when Dad admitted he needed some coffee to keep the yawns and sleepiness at bay. 

We stopped into the Princeton travel plaza that had a Starbucks.  Dad just wanted plain black coffee.  I thought about what I wanted and that's when it came to me.  I didn't need coffee.  I needed "White Girl" coffee. 

I walk up to the barista, and I told her, "Imagine I was the whitest girl you knew.  My name would be Rebecca, (and this next part I said in my best Valley Girl) but all my friends call me Becky!  What drink would I order?"

So basically imagine that I would look like this.

Oh let's be honest, I would "totally" look like Amanda Seyfried.

Anyway, she thinks for about it for five seconds and says, "White mocha or pink ..."

"That's it!!!!"  I exclaimed!  "I want the white mocha on ice!"

She asked, "What size do you want?"

"I want the big one!  I don't know the name of it since I don't speak Italian, but I want the big one!"

To which she said, "Well, at least you knew it was Italian.  I had one woman who thought it was French." 

So she sets about making me the perfect white girl coffee.  She was very meticulous and careful about measuring every unit perfectly.  I think she was drawn to my spirit and as such, she wanted to make the most perfect white girl coffee that had ever been made.

She then asked, "Do you want whip cream on it?"

I responded with an enthusiastic, "Oh yes!  And if you have a cherry you can put it on top as well."

She looked me straight in the eye, and said, "I don't have cherries, ... but I do have strawberries."

My gaze met her gaze, and I said, "That's even better."

She told me in a matter of fact voice, "I didn't think you could make that coffee any more "white girl," but you did." 

I nodded in the fact that we were both on the same page.  We had only just met, but we knew each other so intimately, and it was all due to white girl coffee.

She handed me the wonderfully magical cup, and said, "Thank you sir."

I looked her in the eye and said, "Call me Becky."

Homemade White Girl Coffee: The Ultimate Guide

A while ago I wrote a blog called, "The Whitest Girl Coffee You Know."  Here's the link:

http://angjellockheart.blogspot.com/2016/08/the-whitest-girl-coffee-you-know.html

Now I am addicted to it.  But I can't go to Starbucks, and spend seven bucks on white girl coffee every day.  So I decided to experiment at home, and make my own.  Now, I have provided you all with the exact recipe I use to make the perfect white girl coffee.  Now, I can start my mornings right, without the expense of going to Starbucks.  Here's the recipe:

First off, you need a big ole' cup.  Get that water hot.  I don't care how.  Just get it hot.

Next, add a Folder's Single.

In the water it goes.

Let's grab some Splenda.  You can use syrup or sugar if you want, but know this.  If you make it like I do, it will end up being around 1,200 calories.

And let's add an insane amount.  Don't even measure it.  Just pour it from the bag.

Now, let's grab some vanilla extract.

Add one capful to the cup.

Now you mix it all up, and add some heavy whipping cream.  Okay, a LOT of heavy whipping cream.  Go crazy with that stuff.  You're turning that coffee from black to a sweet shade of mocha.  That takes a lot of cream.

This is what you should end up with.

Now grab a giant cup, and some big ole' ice cubes.  I like using big ice cubes because they last longer, and don't thin down the coffee.

Now it's time to pour the coffee cup into the ice cup.

Here's the result.

How does it taste?  Like my name should be the most white girl name possible.  Becky.  That's what it tastes like.  It tastes like a Becky. 

Please enjoy this.  Share with your white girl friends.  They will love it.  Consider it a gift from me to you.

The Whitest Girl Coffee You Know

So when I was on vacation someone (most likely me) had the bright idea that we should get Starbucks coffee.  I was like, "Yeah, let's do this!  LEE ROY JENKINS!!!!!!"  But then came the problem that had never happened to me.  I didn't feel like ordering tea.  You see, I had gotten some bad tea earlier in the week, and I just didn't want tea. 

Since it's a coffee place I thought, "Let me order some coffee.  But what coffee should I order?  I've never ordered coffee from Starbucks before." 

So I said to the barista taking my order, "MAKE ME THE WHITEST GIRL COFFEE YOU KNOW!!!!!"  So she made me an iced white chocolate mocha latte. 

At first, I felt my inner white girl come out.

Then, I felt like Mario when he has caught a star, and suddenly is invincible.

Suddenly, everything became possible, and I understood the power of my inner white girl.

I'll be honest, I'm terrible at foreign languages, so I'm not exactly sure what encompasses the "Starbucks language."  But, I'm glad they know what I'm saying.

So after I had this wonderful drink, I decided that I needed more.  So I drank some of my Sister's drink.  (I did ask before I drank it.)  That was when I finally understood why Modest Mouse's song "Dashboard" was so groovy and hyper.

I thought, "Hey!  I can really get some stuff accomplished!  Let's go do something!  Anything!  Something!  Anything!"  But no one wanted to do anything but head back to Grandma's house.  So we headed back to Grandma's house, and I listened to Modest Mouse in my head. 

The Serial Killer at Cafe Kili is Really Annoying Me

So there's this nice little coffee and tea shop named Cafe Kili in Tampa (Temple Terrace area.)  The owners are friendly, the place is clean, prices are more than fair, and the smoothies are to die for.  (Note:  The banana smoothie I ordered was probably the best I have ever had in my life.)

A couple of my friends like to go to their open mic night for musicians, artists, and poets.  I went there one time, and have not been back.  Why you ask?  Because there is this one guy who I'm sure is a serial killer that hangs out there..... all the time.  Seriously, the guy even looks like Ted Bundy.

I can't be sure that he is a serial killer.  I have to play the game of whether he is a serial killer, sex offender, or a regular pervert.  Or maybe a not so regular pervert.

Now I realize that many of you are wondering, "what did he do?"  Well he was bugging this one gal, and I could see the fear in her eyes.  She was thankful that there were 50 or so people around.  I ended up asking her, "Well, he wasn't a serial killer now, was he?"  She said, "You noticed that too?"  The vibe this guy gives off is so far above creepy, there isn't a word for it.

Three different people I claim as friends, all who have much more patience than me, can't stand the guy either.  They all say the same thing.  He criticizes all the performers at open mics.  He acts like he's got all this talent.  He's also kind of pushy to go along with being snobby.  I mean, the man is not subtle.  

Okay, so he may not be a serial killer, but I am sure he is on the sex offenders website.  I am sure all of you are asking, "Well why don't you look him up if you are so sure?"  This reminds me of what the comedian Louis C.K. said, "Don't ever look on the sex offender registry.  You will make yourself paranoid with how many sex offenders there are around you."  But seriously, if I get that guy's name I am so going to look him up, and hand his info over to the owners.

Maybe if he wasn't such a dick no one would complain.  It's not like he's as likable as Herbert.

I actually imagine him as a gross, deformed asshole who sucks the life out of anything near him.  Kind of like a dementor.  But now that I think about it, he's more like the Nosferatu.  A perverted Nosferatu.

I wish that the owners would have kicked him off the property by now.  I can't make them do that.  However, I think that guy is scaring off customers.  Until then, I won't be going back to Cafe Kili.

Hairy Fishnuts?

I was at my usual place on Monday nights.  That being, Sacred Grounds Coffee House.  Monday nights are open mic nights, and I love playing my original songs there.  I have also gotten to know a lot of the people there, and I've got to say they are some great folks.

However, open mic night can bring in the weirdos.  One night it was one guy who was a terrible comic.  Actually, I've seen a number of terrible comics there.  There was one guy who got on his soapbox, and complained for 15 minutes.  He said he was going to do a spoken work thing, but he just complained a lot.  There was the time that these two want-a-be gangsta rappers came in, and acted like they owned the place.

However, all this pales in comparison to the yellow and orange blitz known as the "Hairy Fishnuts."

They were kind of dressed like this:

I know that is rude to comment about how they were dressed, but it is pretty close.  One guy even had that accordian type thing, just like the guy in the picture.

Now I want to make sure it wasn't just about the dress of these folks that put me off.  It was the odd haircuts as well.  I mean, if one of them had looked like this I might have talked to one of them.

But they did not.  It was more like this:

It kind of freaked me out.  But let's get to the entertainment side of it.  They did two songs.  But they only used three words during those two songs.  Two of the words being "hairy fishnuts," and one other that I couldn't make out.

Now, I will be the first to admit there have been other bands that use a very limited amount of words in their songs.  The Exploited did that in their masterpiece, "Sex and Violence." 

Here it is:

The other thing that irked me about the Hairy Fishnuts was the fact that they started passing out business cards, and recruiting.  It's an open mic night, not National Signing Day.

I didn't actually talk to any of the Hairy Fishnuts.  With my smartass tounge, and a lot of weird luck that I have had in my life, I felt it was better just to not say anything.

But!  If I had said something to them, I'm sure it would have gone something like this: