I have a question. A simple one. When did ordering coffee start requiring a translator, a glossary, and possibly a minor in chemistry?
Back in my day—(and yes, I hear myself saying that, thank you very much)—you walked into a coffee shop and said one of three things:
“I’ll have coffee.”
“I’ll have coffee with cream.”
Or, if you were feeling wild:
“Coffee. Black.”
And that was it. No follow-up questions. No clarifications. No emotional journey. You paid. You received coffee. You left.
Now?
Now I stand in line behind someone who orders: A tall half-caf oat milk matcha latte with an extra shot, caramel swirl, two pumps of vanilla, light foam, extra hot—but not too hot—in a grande cup.
In a grande cup.
Which is not, as one might assume, the same as a tall. Because of course it isn’t.
And here’s the thing—I’m not even mad at the person ordering. I’m a little impressed. Truly. The confidence. The precision. The complete mastery of a beverage I didn’t even know existed.
But I am a little nostalgic.
Because somewhere along the way, we lost something important:
The Coffee Only Line.
Oh yes. It existed. At a very busy Starbucks (and maybe others, but that’s where I saw it) in Beaverton, Oregon there was once a magical, glorious option:
A separate line for people who just wanted… coffee.
No syrups.
No foam debates.
No existential milk choices.
Just coffee.
You poured your own, put cash in the basket and within seconds—SECONDS—you were on your way.
It was a thing of beauty.
Meanwhile, today’s baristas deserve a standing ovation.
They are managing:
In-person orders
App orders
Drive-thru orders
And a growing list of drinks that sound like dessert met a science experiment
All while putting names on cups or a friendly "have a good day" and keeping a straight face when someone asks for “just a hint of lavender but not too floral.”
Honestly? They’re heroes.
And then there’s the generational divide.
My teen orders something called an affogato after dinner like he’s been living in Italy his whole life. I’m still over here thinking, what is an affogato? “Is it hot? Is it cold? Why is there ice cream involved?” He explained it to me after ordering.
But maybe this is just how things evolve. Coffee didn’t get more complicated. It got more… expressive. Personal. Creative. A little over the top?
Yes. But also kind of wonderful.
Still.
If anyone out there is listening… If any brave coffee shop owner wants to change the world…
Bring back the Coffee Only Line.
You will have a loyal following of slightly confused, mildly impatient, nostalgically inclined customers who just want a cup of coffee and five extra minutes of their lives back.
I’ll be first in line. The short one. With the simple order.
“Coffee. Just… coffee.”
App orders
Drive-thru orders
And a growing list of drinks that sound like dessert met a science experiment
All while putting names on cups or a friendly "have a good day" and keeping a straight face when someone asks for “just a hint of lavender but not too floral.”
Honestly? They’re heroes.
And then there’s the generational divide.
My teen orders something called an affogato after dinner like he’s been living in Italy his whole life. I’m still over here thinking, what is an affogato? “Is it hot? Is it cold? Why is there ice cream involved?” He explained it to me after ordering.
But maybe this is just how things evolve. Coffee didn’t get more complicated. It got more… expressive. Personal. Creative. A little over the top?
Yes. But also kind of wonderful.
Still.
If anyone out there is listening… If any brave coffee shop owner wants to change the world…
Bring back the Coffee Only Line.
You will have a loyal following of slightly confused, mildly impatient, nostalgically inclined customers who just want a cup of coffee and five extra minutes of their lives back.
I’ll be first in line. The short one. With the simple order.
“Coffee. Just… coffee.”

No comments:
Post a Comment