Thirty years ago I joined Starbucks in Philadelphia as a manager-in-training, my fourth coffee shop job in four years. I’d work in downtown Philadelphia for a year, then transfer to a Starbucks on Mercer Island, near Seattle, the next summer.

Working the espresso bar during a rush in the mid-90s was thrilling. The insanity of countless drink permutations and complex recipes was still years away; mainly all we made were lattes and mochas. Before Starbucks optimized mass beverage production it was just controlled chaos. Empty cups accumulated on one side and you worked as fast as possible to fill and move them to the other side. There was a lot of shouting and noise. The old, chrome-covered Italian espresso machines (La Marzocco) had three or four groups for the portafilters and two steam wands. Before automated espresso machines (just press a button), we had to fill the portafilters with ground espresso from a separate grinding unit, tamp the grounds in place just right, and time every shot. If a shot didn’t fall within the 18-23 second range you had to pour it out and start over. Shots under 18 seconds tasted weak and watery; over 23 too bitter.

There was a theatrical element to working the bar and a lot of that theater, the skills required, was real. The grinders were highly sensitive to changes in humidity and often needed to be recalibrated. All this behind-the-scenes stuff could create delays and stress everyone out. People were on their way to work or trying to catch a train and often tense. When it was really busy Starbucks would put two people on the bar (one to steam milk and finish drinks and the other to pump syrups and pull shots). A good barista could work the bar solo and sometimes I did.

In the early days of Starbucks there was no way to indicate what drink went with which cup though, before the company devised cup marking and labeling systems. So cashiers would often use Post-it notes to scrawl down a drink order (e.g., decaf NF latte) but over time, across a fast-growing store base, this approach didn’t scale. As operations became less manual and streamlined bit by bit machines took the place of humans. La Marzocco got replaced by automated machines that ground the espresso (no more timers or repetitive strain on baristas) and Post-its were replaced by machine-printed labels. This is how Starbucks would get more customers in and out, waste less product and improve profits.

Once I thought I could write a play parodying all this, and the sheer sound would convey the manic but special vibe of a busy coffeeshop in the 90s: baristas slapping spent grounds from the portafilter into the knock-box; timers beeping, the hiss of the steam wand. It sounded like a French absurdist comedy and often felt that way.

I watch now what it’s like and how bloodless by comparison, how the finished drink orders line up on the end of the counter and people grab theirs, maybe mumble a thanks and leave. I watch the baristas trying to make contact when they do but it feels forced and unreal.

If I want more of a coffeeshop experience I don’t go to Starbucks now, I go somewhere that feels the way Starbucks used to feel. The funny thing about technology and modern convenience is it cuts out the manual friction but removes parts maybe we didn’t want to lose. Most customers aren’t paying for theater, is the thing.

Categories: Creative Nonfiction, Memoir, Technology

Tags: coffee, Creative Nonfiction, Memoir, Starbucks