Who Am I?

Two years ago, I obtained a degree in theatre. I booked a job before graduation, performing Shakespeare in The White Mountains of New Hampshire. At the end of my contract, I packed every earthly belonging into my white Chevy Malibu, and sped it down to New York City, where doors were sure to fly open.

Some did. I used every ounce of my training in classical tragedy to land my first role as Cow 1 in “Click Clack Moo: Cows That Type,” a musical adaptation of the popular children’s book. Chronologically, Cow 1 sits just above Medea on my resume. This kind of luck showed me that life in New York might never be what I expected, nor suit my preparations.

Hotter than my pursuit of the cleverest children’s musical was my pursuit of the perfect survival job. I was determined not to sit under fluorescent lights, making spreadsheets and collecting paper cuts. Everyone I knew waiting tables had been bled dry, never to audition again. (That is no longer remotely true.) I wanted a job where-in I could utilize and expand my theatrical talents: a quick memory, resonant voice, crisp articulation, physical stamina and mastery of languages- particularly nonsense languages. My goal became clear: Starbucks.

I worked for Starbucks briefly in college, and loved it. It was the neighborhood coffee shop. Baristas were proud of their positions. The company standards were fiercely maintained. We treated each other with respect. We knew our regulars by name, drink, job, dog and favorite color. We happily worked on our breaks. We experimented with recipes. In general, going to work was a pleasure. We loved what we did.

Personally, I made enough money to pay rent and have disposable income. I maintained a healthy social life outside of work. I saved significant money on my significant caffeine habit. I worked with my friends, and brought other friends employed by other chains to my place of employment to show-off how great it was.

I spent a week in New York photocopying applications and papering Manhattan with my credentials. Any Starbucks with a hiring sign was treated to my introduction. “Hi. I care passionately about giving people a break from the madness of everyday life, and facilitating their relaxation and enjoyment, even for just a moment. I believe Starbucks upholds a standard to which all companies should aspire: dignity, knowledge and efficiency that stems from a genuine love for what we do.” And I meant it.

My hard work paid off, and I was employed the highest volume Starbucks in Manhattan- one of the top ten in the world. I was ready for the challenge. Though Times Square may be the epitome of everything I loathe about life in Consumer America, I justified my assignment with the following:

1. The option to work anytime in a 22-hour period, thus allowing me full days to audition, or full nights to rehearse.

2. Central location between the major audition centers in Manhattan. On a well-planned lunch break at 9am, I could run over to the Actors Equity building, put my name on a list and audition after my shift.

3. The ability to trade time with people, and manipulate my schedule to my theatrical needs.

4. Famous people came in and ordered their own drinks. I personally caffeinated much of Broadway and some of Hollywood.

5. Health insurance to pay for the way my body reacted to the incredible, unnatural stress it would endure in Times Square.

6. Nothing would be impossible if I survived.

I have survived, thereby rendering everything possible. I want to share my two years of life behind the espresso bar, holding up a mirror to society, because serving the elixir of life at the cross-roads of the world has given me a wealth of experience.

Disclaimer: Any opinions expressed in this blog are in no way a reflection of the Starbucks Corporation. They are a collection of observations of Service Culture in New York City, Fast Food Culture in America, and Human Culture in the Western Hemisphere- observations made by me, and not Starbucks.