BARISTA: How can I help you, person? Would you like to try our new, vegan, GMO-free, gluten-free, calorie-free, free-range, flavor-free latte? It’s great. And NOT free, though I can’t tell you how many customers get confused about that. Seriously, I’m so high on my weed latte, I’m seeing doubles. Can’t even count two bitcoins. Or is it one?
OLD WHITE MAN: Uh, no actually. Can I just use your bathroom? I really gotta pee.
BARISTA: (narrows eyes) Hmm… you don’t happen to have your Formerly Oppressed Pass on you, do you?
OLD WHITE MAN: No, sorry, Iㅡ
BARISTA: Then I can’t help you. Now, if you were to, say, buy something, you would have complete access to everything from our bathrooms, to our entitlement Wi-Fi, to our environmentally sustainable plastic strawsㅡ the trick is, you eat them… You can have it all! For the low, low price of buying a latte (lowers voice) for ten dollars. (Lowers voice even more) And a twenty-dollar tax. (Whispers) Also, please tip me.
OLD WHITE MAN: What? No, I was going to say… Yes, I am a man. I mean, I identify as a male. I am of the Caucasian race. I am old. BUT I am also homeless.
BARISTA: Well, why didn’t you say so? Welcome to Starbitcoins!
OLD WHITE HOMELESS MAN: I figured you could tell by my smell.
BARISTA: (draws in a deep breath) Yes, now I do smell it. It was so obvious. It’s such a strong organic lemony fresh smell that A.O.C. junior donated. We’re lucky we got rid of that disgusting Electoral College so we could elect her.
OLD WHITE HOMELESS MAN: I’m glad I narrowly missed the era when they still had it. I can’t imagine having to live during a time when they elected a moldy orange to the oval office.
BARISTA: Please don’t mention that. My parents lived through it, so I know how traumatizing it must have been. My mother had PTSD from it. And then she actually died of a heart attack when they elected a hard-shell taco four years later. It was cultural appropriation.
OLD WHITE HOMELESS MAN: Let’s just pretend like it never happened.
BARISTA: Sure… Oh no.
OLD WHITE HOMELESS MAN: What?
BARISTA: Don’t look now, but… behind you.
OLD WHITE HOMELESS MAN: What is it? Donald Trump Jr. Jr. Jr.? These politicians really need to come up with more original names.
BARISTA: No, not THAT bad. Remember? The Real News Media got him for colluding with the Martians. He’s not experiencing that fresh air from the Green New Deal for a looong time. Neither are we, but that’s beside the point.
OLD WHITE HOMELESS MAN: Well, then what is it? What’s got you so upsetㅡare you sweating?
BARISTA: Don’t freak out but it’s… a Republican.
OLD WHITE HOMELESS MAN: GAH! Don’t joke.
BARISTA: I don’t joke about these things. What is he doing in here? Is he lost?
(OLD WHITE HOMELESS MAN runs into the bathroom.)
BARISTA: HEY! CAMO MUSTACHE GUY. ARE YOU LOST?
REPUBLICAN: (chews on bacon, wears camo, adjusts cap that says, “Make Evilness Great Again,” and western music plays in the background) Nah, I ain’t lost, sweetheart. What are you, on your period?
BARISTA: Hey, man, my pronouns are he, him, and his (tears up).
REPUBLICAN: Well get a haircut, then, you pot smokin’ hippie.
BARISTA: It’s not smoking, it’s in a LATTE. Anyway, you’re not welcome here to use our entitlement Wi-Fi.
REPUBLICAN: That ain’t what I came here for. Besides, the only thing worth a damn on the Internet is pictures of Jesus and Twitter. Even that tiny blue bird ain’t fun no more now that the Donald has gone on to heaven.
BARISTA: Do you really thinkㅡ? No, I’m not gonna get into it. I’m gonna take the high road in my Prius. Just gotta balance my chakras and… (takes a deep breath) what do you want?
REPUBLICAN: I didn’t even mean to set foot in here. I was walkin’ around, lookin’ for a shootin’ range when I came across this place and its walls… beautiful things, these walls. I love walls. I just can’t believe that you snowflakes hate ‘em so much, but build ‘em so fine. I mean, look at them bricks at Whole Foods!
BARISTA: Is there a point you’re attempting to get to?
REPUBLICAN: Was I too subtle for you, fruitcake? I’m saying, I was lured in by the walls, like a moth to an electric lamp.
BARISTA: (flinches) That’s so inhumane, you monster.
REPUBLICAN: But now that I’m in tree hugger territory, I’m intrigued. I feel just like an illegal immigrant. Look out liberals, I just might deal drugs to people who would otherwise have been pure souls. Before I change my mind… why don’t I give one of your froofy drinks a try? But I want a plastic straw.
BARISTA: Really? I have the perfect thing. Here… I think you’ll find this to your liking. It will put you on the HIGHway to wherever your religion believes the afterlife is.
REBUPLICAN: (chugs drink and burps)
ONE HOUR (AND LOTS OF POLITICAL PREACHING) LATER….
REPUBLICAN: … I’m glad the glass ceiling was broken… No matter how many shards of glass got in my eyes… We should knock down all the walls… We shouldn’t knock down all the trees… We still got stuff to learn from the commies… I’m now vegan and I’ll tell everybody… I love pot… I love you (hugs barista). Thank you for this experience… I’ll never forget you.
BARISTA: Well, at least not until you lose your high. Let go… I can’t breathe.
REPUBLICAN: Will you marry me? Gay marriage is legal, which I’m good with now.
BARISTA: You know what? Okay. You seem like a nice guy, deep down. Deeper than the coal mines. You’ll be my proof that both parties can get along. When we’re high. Maybe I’ll win a Nobel Peace Prize. Let’s go to city hall. I’m Jess (takes off the apron and takes the cup from Republican). What’s your name?
REPUBLICAN: Bob.
JESS: (scribbles on the cup with a sharpie and romantically hands to Bob).
BOB: This says Bableshoifvshkavitsb. Oh, well. It’s Starbitcoins. Let’s go, honey.