“But you only make coffee.”

It is the identical stereotype saying IT workers only do typing and bankers only count banknotes that I detest profoundly. Is it because the statement undermines the importance of my job? Or is it because of the blatant reality that I have refused to accept?

Undeniably, I do make coffee. But while waiting for your decaf triple grande three-pump sugar free vanilla skinny extra dry warm cappucino, haven’t you observed that my job also involve one of the most strenuous tasks in any job called the customer service?

I make coffee, it is true. But I am also paid for to make sure you have received the greatest Starbucks experience, or an experience that makes you feel like your lavish £3 spending over a 12oz fluid is rebranded as style. It is our principle to make you think that holding the green logo cup walking on the high street is something glamorous. And guess what? You buy it!

It is indeed to my knowledge that even in the United Kingdom, in London, that people think drinking Starbucks coffee is something that makes them stick out like a sore thumb. What makes the global coffee chain garners such a fame? I have no idea. But what I know is even when you are working with a distinguished coffee company, what people think of you really is the person who stands behind the bar (only) making coffee.

Instead of being the one creating the special experience and repeating the hundreds complicated and highly customised beverages,  why couldn’t I be the one queuing at the receiver’s end, even when I am neither a coffee nor tea drinker.

Worse, it seems like living in London fosters the spending culture. You have to buy something nice (and ridiculously expensive) to reward your hard work after a week is what I have been brainwashed with. Hard work? What have you really done in the office? Typing? Counting banknotes? Or pure chit-chatting?

No, it wasn’t my intention to undermine the importance of your job because you get paid more than me. Stop raising the placard and claim that you work for personal satisfaction instead of the money that pays your frequent overseas travels, your branded shopping spree, your so called stylish dining which in my world really is an unnecessary binge eating and drinking session you happily indulge yourself in.

Yes, you smell it right. I am jealous and not contented. Having the same earning and subsequently the spending power as you do, why am I stuck in Starbucks harvesting physical crops instead of mental intelligence fruits? In a world that values more brain than hand works, I’ve learnt that the only means for me to satisfy my materialistic attribute is to join your camp, even though I highly doubt I will evolve to one of those sun-glasses wearing bonkers who walk with their noses higher than their foreheads.

Yes, I desire to possess the power to give out £10 tip just because someone has spent time talking to me while he is mopping the floor and while I am having my panini sandwich at a secluded corner in Starbucks. I never thought that what I normally perceived as a polite insult or friendly reward could be such a refreshing inspiration.

It is a big tip. It is an even bigger reminder of my objective. I must abandon complacency and strive forward. I want to be one having the power to give out a £10 tip, or spending £300 on a sling bag. Skin deep I know. But one shouldn’t really stop before he could be skin deep.