I got my red-eye this morning at the Starbucks on the corner of Stuart and Dartmouth. It's a small space. They take the brunt of the commuter traffic from Back Bay Station, so the line was 20 deep when I got in it.
But the staff was uber-efficient. Barista hummed as he pushed the espresso shots and steamed milk, singing out the customer names and drink selections. Cash register guy commented, loudly, to no one in particular, about the cheesy carols playing in the background. Manager worked the line, taking drink orders ahead of time, writing names on cups. The people actually getting the drinks looked miserable.
My coffee came quickly, and I headed out to the Hancock for another dubious day on the financial markets. Although for about 30 seconds, observing the adrenaline flow, I had wished I was behind the barista counter, instead.
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