The Starbucks Shakes

Two homeless men in their early 20s stood at the counter of a Starbucks. I stood behind them. No one was else was in the joint. In a few minutes I would meet a writing client to discuss his manuscript.

The men attempted to order some fancy drinks. I say “attempted” because their speech was nearly unintelligible. One gibbered, the other jabbered. One was using a gift card, one was on his knees digging through his backpack hunting for change. The kneeling man shook back and forth.

He began removing the contents of his backpack: electric power drill, charger, duct tape and other assorted items. I noticed a can of hairspray. (Homeless men use hairspray? Both of these men had shaved heads! A new drug fad?)

The hunt for change was proving fruitless. He had 50 pennies spread across the counter, a few nickels and dimes. He kept shaking.

It was taking forever but the female barista was kind, patient and counted up the total as it accumulated.

The man stood up from the floor and faced the barista. I pulled a buck from my wallet and placed it on the counter.

“Hey brother,” I said, “Let me help you out.”

He took the bill and pushed it in with the change. He did not turn around or say anything. He was still shaking.

His drink was some kind of oatmeal coffee concoction with whipping cream.

As he waited, shaking, he put everything back in his backpack. His buddy took his drink and moved away.

The concoction arrived. The man grasped it, walked up to his friend, and said they had three minutes to catch the bus across a busy road. They had to get moving.

They moved. I saw a homeless man running with an oatmeal coffee drink topped with whipping cream with a power tool and hairspray in has backpack.

I watched them jog cross the street. Oatmeal drink man didn't spill a drop.

The bus showed up and they disappeared into it.

A half an hour later, as I was leaving, I told the barista how well she handled the two men and showed extraordinary kindness and patience. She looked genuinely shocked to hear my compliment.

“Thank you so much,” she said.

“I notice these things,” I said. “More people should.”

“I agree. Thanks again.”

I was driving home when it hit me: why in the hell didn't you tip her?