Drive Thru and how it ruined the coffeehouse culture

When I actually landed the job at Starbucks, I couldn't have been more thrilled. So many times I had wanted to work there and couldn't because I was a full-time student or was too young. Finally I got to try a job at the place I frequented the most. I love coffeehouses, the community it creates in a neighborhood, the artistic crowd it draws, and so many other things. I had taken the job before I even glanced around the corner and noticed the drive thru window. I didn't even know Starbucks had them (apparently now they've become almost mandatory for all upcoming locations.

I thought to myself, 'Why wouldn't anyone want to come inside? Half of the draw of Starbucks is to come inside and enjoy the atmosphere.' In addition, why would someone wait 3-7 minutes for a cup of coffee (and in some cases, just a pastry or gift card!)? Nevertheless, it was part of the gig at THIS store, and I was going to acclimate. One of my new goals for myself was to be better at coping with the cards you're dealt, and this was no exception.

My firsthand dealings with drive thru didn't begin until I was working there for a little over a month (Thank God! Put it off as LONG as you can). I learned the technology pretty quickly, practicing typing in orders one day, and the next day practicing handing off the drinks. Then the third day I was to apply both experiences and run the show. The first few orders were so surreal. I couldn't believe that I was really doing this. People giving me messages, waiting for my reciprocation of communication, and then driving to the window to make good on the promise. The social construction of it all was so fascinating and improvised the first couple of days. Sometimes the customer would speak so quickly that I could verbally understand them and be able to say and repeat aloud, however my eyes and fingers couldn't find the corresponding message on the screen. Worried I would be too slow I would allow them to drive around, to end their agony of waiting for my slower response. I would eventually find the buttons, but this became a problem when more than one car at a time came through. This, as you can imagine, began a pile-up effect, leaving me caught with a car at the window waiting for me to address them when I have yet to type in their entire order to be completed by my coworkers. Meanwhile I new car as popped up, and I cannot talk to them until I'm ready to go (and I was trying to seem cool and collected - a well seasoned barista with all of her mental capacities) so I'd ask them to hold and so on and so forth. This is the mental process I am enduring and my acidity levels in my stomach are going crazy.