I Need A New Drug

Okay, so Prozac is not “it.” It was for a couple of years but slowly stopped working so well and killed my libido (which is not a good asset to a marriage). I tried Welbutrin for the past few weeks and found myself unable to cope with frustration, anger, set backs, snotty customers… especially snotty customers. Working in this upscale neighborhood is so different than it was in the middle class neighborhood. The people here look right through you as if you’re a vending machine or something. You can greet them with a, “Hello, how are you,” and you get, “Fine, I’d like a tall skim no foam latte, please, and make sure she fills it up to the top.”

At the old place, people would actually tell us how they were. We knew whose husband was in the hospital, whose kids were sick. We invited customers we got to know better to parties and bbqs. We exchanged curative ideas on migraine headaches and menopause. Here, at the new place, I just answered the no foam latte lady by saying, “She is me, and I’ll be glad to fill it to the top.”

Last week I made over 60 espresso drinks an hour for two hours straight. We also managed to wait on 100 customers per hour for two hours on a different day. These numbers are phenominal for our area. My last store didn’t even come close to that. And what did we get? When one of the baristas wanted to go to the bathroom at 9:30 after being on duty since 7:00 and there was a line wrapped around the store, I had a customer who wanted a pound of coffee ground. I checked her through but asked her to wait for a moment for the lady to come back from the rest room and she would grind the coffee. Otherwise a good fifteen customers would be held up while I ground.

The lady behind her didn’t help, she said, “Well, frankly, she did wait in line all this time to get the coffee.”

I, again, explained that the other barista was in the ladies room and would be out momentarily. After I waited on lady #2, I heard them talking, rather loudly about how Starbucks is always so slow and this Starbucks was the worst one. I was so furious I thought I would throw the coffee beans at her. I told her there was another one about a mile south that she might prefer to go to as there were fewer customers there. She responded that she only lived two blocks away. “I guess you’re stuck then,” I told her.

I’m sooo glad I have this job because it gives me a whole new perspective on how people treat other people. I would much rather be behind the counter being snubbed than be in front of the counter doing the snubbing, not that I ever had a problem with that — I was a customer here before I was even thinking about this career switch — but I feel more able to identify with angry black people and the rioting impoverished.

When I was corporate, I sometimes had to put up with this attitude from the account group personnel and sales reps, but I was at a level where I received respect from most of the employees and actually received a great deal of respect from the clients. It was the dog-eat-dog internal politics that made me sick and eager to leave that lifestyle after twenty years.

I am grateful to God that I didn’t slip into spoiled housewife mode and walk around treating others as if they were servants when, all the time, these others are actually pulling their weight in the world more responsibly and certainly not spending their time fussing over which color appliances would look better in their newly refinished kitchens.

A woman can stay home with her kids and actually work as hard as a man, but if the man’s rich enough, she can also spend her days gliding between Starbucks and the workout club and act as if she is busy with important things us “counter clerks” could never comprehend… the charity balls that will be attended by only her friends anyway (it would have yielded more if they had just donated the money straight to the cause than to have their little party), the re-decorating of the house and, “how can we put up with this dust?” or “I can’t even use my kitchen. We’ve been having to eat out every night.” It makes me want to puke.

Wow… see why I needed a new medication. Welbutrin just sort of intensified that train of thought. On Prozac (before it started to wear off) I was much more able to live and let live. I had a certain disdain for the type of woman I describe above, but I also reminded myself that I don’t know the whole story of their lives and maybe they had their own hardships to live through (perhaps a subconscious feeling of uselessness or dependancy on a man who is having an affair with a “working girl.”) Now, I find it hard to hold back and not just slam my apron down on the counter and quit. The thing is, I really do love my job. I like pampering the customers who appreciate it… I like making their drinks just the way they like them, even if it’s difficult. I like smiling and greeting people, even the crabby ones. I just don’t like the type… and REALLY don’t like them… that I’ve described above.

So, my doctor finally reached me today and she’s switching me to a different medication. Will I ever be able to find one that keeps me calm without draining my sexuality? Who knows?