The FORTRESS of SOLITUDE

The b/f was leaving this morning. On our way to the subway we decided to partake in some Snobfee (better known to peasants as Starbucks). I personally find the machinations of the joint repulsive, but they make a mean light caramel frappuccino.
We walk in and he orders the following (and I quote), "Can I get a Grande Soy no foam latte with a lite caramel frappucino?" The nice lesbo at the cash took my money, called out the drinks (VERBATIM) and then we went and waited by the barista's counter. Remember the order well.
I should clarify a couple things. A LIGHT frappuccino means a) they use Splenda© instead of sugar, and b) they don't put whip cream on. If you order a regular frappuccino, they ask if you want the whip cream or not.
We're standing and waiting, patiently, and then the guy is finishing the b/f's latte and he starts putting the foam at the top (being a former barista, the b/f knows they put a bunch of foam and you get screwed out of at least an inch of coffee). So he says, "Oh, can I get that without the foam, please?" The barista (a youngish, gay male...*cough*) goes, "Okay." The he places the coffee on the counter. He then turns to me and goes, "Do you want whip cream on your frappuccino?"
Confused, I ask, "It is a light, isn't it?"
He sighs and says, "No."
I just look at him and say, "Can I get a light please? That's what was ordered."
And he sighs again, much more loudly this time and starts making it again. I turn to the b/f and apologize for making us late. Then I look over and see the barista talking to the new guy working the cash - another homo, and they're just tutting and tsking and I wanna rip their smug, good for nothing balls off. He finally finishes my drink and gives it to me with a straw that is twice as tall as the cup. I reach over the counter and get the proper straw and we leave.
I ask you this...

...why is it when the barista makes a mistake, I get attitude? Why is it when the barista IGNORES what the order-taker called out, it's MY fault? Why is it that the barista feels he can be catty about customers who rightfully deserve that they ORDERED and PAID FOR? Why is it a 15 year old can do that job, but he acts like he's performing brain surgery and I should be eternally grateful he took a week's training to learn how to use the blender?

Assholes.

Other than that the weekend was good. Ended up waiting in line on Sunday evening to get into a sweaty, over crowded bar where the fat, ugly, minimum wage earning, sexless doorman gives you attitude to assert the miniscule size of his penis and you get to walk in, immediately bead up on your forehead and listen to horrifically bad 80s tunes (that NEVER change week to week). Having said all that, it was indeed funny because I could just judge everyone there - nice. We then went to Woody's to watch a real bad drag show on a television and laugh. Was a good night over all.

S.