The cashier crushes hard on my shirt, which features the blueprints for the Millennium Falcon.
“Are you excited for the new one?” he asks.
“Just as long as they don’t mess it up like the last three, right?”
It sounds like generic geek banter, but it’s really a trap because the talk sends the barista standing next to the cashier into a rage.
“Come on,” he says. “The new ones aren’t totally useless, dude!”
“Not totally useless,” I say. “Just totally awful.”
“Dude, that’s just nostalgia talking,” the barista says. “Go back and watch the originals; they’re shitty too.”
“Bro, we argue about this constantly,” the cashier says. “He’s always defending one through three, always saying we like the originals because of nostalgia.”
“But you’re a fan of the franchise?”
“Huge fan,” the barista says.
“But you think they’re all equally shitty?”
“Yeah. We just don’t notice how shitty Star Wars, Empire, and Jedi are because we were too young, dude. Nostalgia.”
“Ok, but I don’t understand. Because you’re saying you’re a huge fan of something you say is shitty, right?”
“I’m not a hater, dude.”
“Bro, he thinks everyone but him is a hater,” the cashier says.
“But if it’s crap, shouldn’t we hate it?”
Finally, there is silence. Then…
“BRO! You should totally work here so we can shut this guy up.”
The barista laughs that off with a smile. He’ll never shut up, he explains. I explain that I can respect that, but that I could never work there.
“Why not?” the cashier asks.
“I think I’d get us all fired. Too much talking, not enough pouring.”
We all chuckle.
“Hey bro,” the cashier says. “What was your order again?”
“Just a coffee.”