Once, I was vacation with my then boyfriend and his family. Lovely people. We took a break from the beach and went to town to get some subs (hoagies, grinders, heroes, shut up.). Once arriving at Subway, I'd soon realized that these baby boomers had never been to a Subway chain. Really? Honestly.
They stood there, mouth agape at all the choices available. They spent about 15 minutes discussing the merits of splitting a footlong, since they both like turkey, but maybe you should get the meatball and I'll have a bite and then you can have some of the turkey oh but wait you don't like peppers can they do half peppers?
Soon after, I researched flame throwers online.
But, let's face it. They live outside of the city, cook most of their meals at home and were brought up in a "going out to eat is a special occasion" family. Gotta give them some slack.
The person to whom I am not offering slack is the New Yorker who doesn't know the ordering system at Starbucks.
Tall. Grande. Venti. Hell, I'll take Small, Medium and Large.
But don't give me "what sizes do you have" bullshit or the "can I get a big coffee" or the "oh wait - do you have anything that's not too strong?" or "do you have anything smaller"?"
Or..."Can I get a GRANDEE?"
Fuck you. You live here. Since you made the decision to emerge from your bomb shelter, why not do a little research before coming to the busiest, angriest breakfast spot in the city?
And don't give me the "I'm not a regular" excuse. You go to a foreign country, you learn the languange. You live in the city, you learn the code. Grab a coffee-to-english dictionary or fucking step to the side while I order.